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EMBLEMS, 

DIVINE AND MORAL, 

BV 

FRANCIS QUARLES. 

NEW EDITION. 



CAREFULLY REVISED AND CORRECTED, WITH 
RECOMMENDATORY PREFACES BY THE 

REV. AUGUSTUS TO PL AD Y, 

A.NLD THE 

REV. JOHN RYLAND. 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME WITH EIGHTV ENGRAVING? 



LONDON : 

Printed at the Milton Press, Chandos Street, Strand, 

BY JOHN NICHOLS. 

JOHN BENNET, No. 4, THREE TUN PASSAGE, 
25, & 26, NEWGATE STREET. 

MDCCCXXXIX. 






£* 



PREFACE 



TO THE PRESENT EDITION. 



The immense number of editions through which the 
Emblems of Francis Quarles have passed since their first 
appearance, nearly two hundred years since, is the strongest 
proof of their merit that can be adduced, particularly when 
the great expense of embellishing each publication, inferior 
as the engravings have in some instances been, is taken into 
consideration. There is not a single circumstance in human 
life to which some part of them does not allude : the expla- 
nations of the figures are in easy agreeable verse ; to each of 
them is added a striking quotation from one of the fathers 
of the Church ; and the whole is briefly summed up in general 
inference. In the present edition the Latin mottos are trans- 
lated, and notes explanatory of obsolete words and obscure 
passages are added, so that it will be found one of the most 
agreeable works that can be offered to the public ; especially 
to the rising generation. Here they will meet with no dis- 
tracting controversy — no doubts concerning religion ; but 
entertainment and improvement go hand in hand together. 
These Emblems are not only calculated to convey the most 
important lessons of instruction into youthful minds, but to 
convey them in the most pleasant and interesting manner — 
by hieroglyphics, Or figurative signs and symbols, of divine, 
sacred, and supernatural things ; by which mode of commu- 
nicating knowledge the fancy is charmed, the invention is 
exercised, the mind informed, and the heart improved. 



PREFACE TO THE 



There is a quaintness in the style of our author, for which, 
had he lived in a later age, the flowers of modern poetry 
would have been a poor substitute — a quaintness which al- 
though at first occasionally somewhat obscure, improves so 
materially upon acquaintance, that the reader who can peruse 
his Emblems* without discovering beauties of the first order 
must have in his soul very little of pious fervour — vary little 
of poetic feeling. That his subject demanded a style now 
termed quaint our author was himself aware: asking what 
Muse he shall invoke, he says — 

" Let all the Nine be silent ; I refuse 
Their aid in this high task, for they abuse 

The names of love too much : assist me, David's Muse ! '' 
Surely there is poetry as well as piety in the following : — ■ 

" Not as the thirsty soil desires soft skow'rs 

To quicken and refresh her embryon grain, 

Nor as the drooping crests of fading fiow'rs 

Request the bounty of a morning rain, 
Do I desire my God : these in few hours 
Re-wish what let their wishes did obtain : 
But as the swift-foot hart doth wounded fly 
To th' much desired streams, even so do I 

Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find, or die. " 



Quarks is richly deserving of the laurel he has gained. 
His wit is bright, and his discrimination of characters keen ; 
his descriptions display uncommon skill; his style suits his 
turn of thought, however peculiar, and his turn of thought 
his style. His writings convey a sort of wisdom in which 



FRESENT EDITION. 



young and old, learned and unlearned, are equally concerned, 
and without' which the greatest philosopher is an arrant fool. 
For however highly we may esteem human arts and sciences 
in their proper place, it will ever be true that " the wisdom of 
this world is foolishness with God. " 

Various and elaborate means are pursued, in order to fur- 
nish the minds of our youth with, fabulous knowledge, and to 
fill them with the frivolous tales of heathenish science, the 
very perfection of which deserves but little, if any, praise . 
And it is, no doubt, a sad proof of universal degeneracy, that 
the Metamorphoses of Ovid are preferred, in our schools, to 
the sacred Realities of Moses and the Prophets ; and that a 
young person is taught to be as much affected with the recital 
of the dismal fate of Phaeton's sisters, as by that of Isaac, or 
of a greater than Isaac, when offered up a sacrifice to the 
God of Heaven. 

Let us however, hope for better times and better things, 
when every human science shall be made subservient to 
divine, whenthe invaluable knowledge of the Sacred Writings 
shall have its due place and due honour, and when Quarks 1 
Embkms shall at least be preferred to the comparative non- 
sense of the Pantheon and Ovid's Epistles. 

We shall now proceed to lay before our readers the opi- 
nions of several very eminent and pious men on the merits of 
the writings of Quarles generally, but more particularly of his 
Emblems. " Some poets, " say the celebrated Fuller, author 
of the History of the Worthies of England, " if debarred 
prophaneness, wantonness, and satiricalness, that they may 
neither abuse God, themselves, nor their neighbours, have 



vi. PREFACE TO THE 

their tongues cut out in effect. Others only trade in wit at 
the second hand, being- all for translations, nothing for inven- 
tion. Our Quarks was free from the faults of the first, as if 
he had drank of Jordan instead of Helicon, and slept on 
Mount Olivet for his parnassus ; and was happy in his own 
invention. His visible poetry, I mean his Emblems, is ex- 
cellent, catching therein the eye and fancy at one draught." — 
Pope, in a letter to Bishop Atterbury, calls him a " great 
poet." — Langbaine says, " He was a poet that mixed religion 
and fancy together ; and was very careful, in all his writings, 
not to intrench upon good manners by any scurrility in his 
works, or any ways offending against his duty to God, his 
neighbour, and himself." 

With the following testimonials, which we present at 
length, we shall conclude, not doubting that, on a perusal of 
the work, every candid and liberal Christian will consider it 
worthy of the encomiums which have been bestowed on it, 
and that the present edition will meet that encouragement 
which will amply repay the heavy expense attending its 
production. 



Recommendations of the Work, 

Sir, — As you have requested my opinion relative to the expe- 
diency of republishing ' Quarles' Emblems' and the ' School of the 
Heart,' it is incumbent on me to aquaint you, that, as an humble 
individual, I most sincerely vote for a new and correct edition of 
those excellent books. The former was of much spiritual use to me 
at an early period of life ; and I still consider it as a very ingenious 
and valuable treasury of Christian experience. The latter I have 
lately perused ; and am strongly persuaded that the reprinting it 
may answer advantageous purposes to the Church of Christ. 



PRESENT EDITION. 



Be particularly careful to give neat and beautiful impressions of 
the numerous and expressive cuts which illustrate each respective 
article. I would advise you to keep strictly to the designs of the 
original plates ; and not to vary from them in a single instance : 
but the execution of them, as they stand in the old editions, calls for 
improvement. In emblematic works much depends on the elegancy 
of the engravings, which, if well finished, speak an ocular language, 
singularly emphatic, and universally intelligible. The eye very fre- 
quently informs the understanding and effects the heart, when the 
most laboured efforts of vocal rhetoric fail. 

Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem, 
Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, et qua; 
Ipse sibi tradit spectator. 

With an earnest desire and hope that your intended undertaking 
will be owned and blessed of God, to the establishment of his people 
in knowledge, and to tbeir growth in holiness and comfort, I 
remain, 



Sir, 



Your sincere well-wisher, 



AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY. 
Nevo-street, Jan. 3, 1777. 



To the serious Part of the Christian World. 

It is matter of pleasing surprise to find that such books as 
' Quarks' Emblems,' and the ' School of the Heart,' should be so 
much called for as to incline any printer to venture on a new edi- 
tion. I really imagined that the rage for romances, novels, and 
plays, had entirely extinguished all taste for such productions as 
these now presented to the public. 



Quarles was a man of spiritual wit and imagination, in the reign 
of King Charles I, a time when poetic genius in the religious world 
had not been cultivated. Spencer and Shakspeare were then the 
only men that deserved the name of poets; and these were far enough 
from the knowledge and taste of the people called Puritans ; so that 
I think Quarks may be styled the first r as Herbert was the second, 
divine poet of the English nation. 



PREFACE, &c. 



In the productions of this excellent man there is nothing to please 
the state of modern critics : his uncommon turns of thought ; the 
quaintness of his poetic style ; but above all the depth of evangelic 
fervour, the ardent piety, and the rich experience of the heart, can 
be relished by none but those who, in the highest sense of the word, 
deserve the name of true Christians. To such as these the following 
work will be acceptable and delightful ; and by them, and the serious 
part of their families, it will not be deemed impertinent in me to 
recommend this work to their attention. 



JOHN RYLAND. 



Northampton, Jan. 8, 1777. 



Sir, — ' Francis Quarks' Emblems,' and the ' School of the 
Heart, ' are works which have been so generally known and well 
received for more than a century past, that nothing is necessary by 
way of recommendation. The cuts have been highly entertaining 
to younger minds; while the subject matter of the poems, and the 
general strain and manner of them, have been little less so to those 
of riper years. What share of merit is due to the poet, we leave to 
better judges. The poems appear to be, in the main, very consis- 
tent with the evangelic doctrines, and not a little adapted both to 
please and profit those who wish to have their hearts called off from 
the present world, and fixed upon a better. 

The editor of this new edition engages for the goodness of the 
paper and letter, and the utmost correctness of the copy, and a set 
of new copper -plates engraved in the neatest manner; which he flat- 
ters himself will give the purchases an universal satisfaction. 

And, as it is a work of uncommon expensiveness, he relies upon 
the generosity of Christians of all denominations to encourage the 
undertaking, which is a fresh to put into the hands of the public 
what hath been long out of print, and of which so few fair and cor- 
rect copies are to be met with. On these accounts we take the 
liberty to recommend the present publication. 

JOHN CONDER, 

Master of the Academy at Komerton. 
SAMUEL BREWER, 



Independent Minister at London. 



BOOK THE FIRST. 



THE INVOCATION. 

Rouse thee, my soul ! and drain thee from the dregs 
Of vulgar thoughts; screw up the heighten' d pegs 
Of thy sublime theorbo* for notes high'r — 
And higher yet — that so the shrill-mouth'd choir 
Of swift-wing'd seraphims may come and join, 
And make the concert more than half divine. 
Invoke no Muse ; let Heav'n be thy Apollo : 
And let his sacred influences hallow 
Thy-high bred strains. Let his full beams inspire 
Thy ravish'd brains with more heroic fire r 
Snatch thee a quill from the spread eagle's wing, 
And, like the morning lark, mount up and sing : 
Cast off these dangling plummets, that so clog 
Thy lab'ring heart, which gropes in this dark fog 
Of dungeon earth : let flesh and blood forbear 
To stop thy flight, till this base world appear 
A thin blue landscape : let thy pinions soar 
So high a pitch, that men may seem no more 
Than pismires, crawling on the mole-hill Earth, 
Thy ear untroubled with their frantic mirth : 
Let not the frailty of thy flesh disturb 
Thy new-concluded peace ; let reason curb 
Thy hot-mouth'd passion ; and let Heav'n's fire season 
The fresh conceits of thy corrected reason : 
Disdain to warm thee at Lust's smoky fires ; 
Scorn, scorn to feed on thy old bloat desires. 
Come, come, my soul ! hoist up thy higher sails ! 
The wind blows fair : shall we still creep like snails, 
That gild their ways with their own native slimes? 
No, we must fly like eagles ; and our rhymes 

* The theorbo is a musical instrument resembling a lute. 



10 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 

Must mount to Heav'n, and reach th' Olympic ear : 
Our Heav'n-blown fire must seek no other sphere. 

Thou great Theanthropos, * that giv'st and crown'st 
Thy gifts in dust, and from our dunghill own'st 
Reflected honour, taking by retail 
What thou hast giv'n in gross, from lapsed, frail, 
And sinful man : that drink'st full draughts, wherein 
Thy children's lep'rous fingers, scurf d with sin, 
Have paddled : cleanse, O cleanse my crafty soul 
From secret crimes, and let my thoughts control 
My thoughts ! O teach me stoutly to deny 
Myself, that I may be no longer I ! 
Enrich my fancy, clarify my thoughts ; 
Refine my dross ; O wink at human faults ! 
And through this slender conduit of my quill 
Convey thy current, whose clear stream may fill 
The hearts of men with love, their tongues with praise : 
Crown me with glory ; take, who list, the bays. 



* Theanthropos is compounded of the Greek words Geog, God, 
and avOpioiroQ, man-, and is a title given to our Saviour, as being both 
God and man. 



BOOK I.-EMBLEM I. 



James i. 14. 

Every man is tempted when he is drawn away by his 
own lust, and enticed. 

SERPENT. EVE. 

Serp. Not eat ? not taste ? not cast an eye 

Upon the fruit of this fair tree ? and why ? 

Why eat'st thou not what Heav'n ordain'd for food? 

Or canst thou think that bad which Heav'n call'd good? 

Why was it made, if not to be enjoy'd ? 

Neglect of favours makes a favour void : 

Blessings unus'd pervert into a waste 

As well as surfeits : woman, do but taste : 

See how the laden boughs make silent suit 

To be enjoy'd ; look how their bending fruit 

Meet thee half-waj' - : observe but how they crouch 

To kiss thy hand : coy woman, do but touch : 

Mark what a pure vermilion blush has died 

Their swelling cheeks, and how for shame they hide 

Their palsy heads, to see themselves stand by 

Neglected : woman, do but cast an eye. 

What bounteous Heav'n ordain'd for use, refuse not ; 

Come, pull and eat : y' abuse the things ye use not. 

Eve. Wisest of beasts, our great Creator did 
Reserve this tree, and this alone forbid : 
T he rest are freely ours, which doubtles are 
A s pleasing to the taste ; to th' eye as fair : 
But, touching this, his strict commands are such, 
'Tis death to taste, no less than death to touch. 



12 EMBLEMS. BOOK: t. 

Serp. Pish ! death's a fable ; did not Heav'n inspire 
Your equal elements with living fire, 
Blown from the spring of life ? Is not that breath 
Immortal ? come, ye are as free from death 
As he that made ye. Can the flames expire 
Which he has kindled ? can ye quench his fire ? 
Did not the great Creator's voice proclaim 
Whate'er he made, from the blue spangled frame 
To the poor leaf that trembles, very good ? 
Bless'd he not both the feeder and the food ? 
Tell, tell me then, what danger can accrue 
From such bless'd food, to such half-gods as you ? 
Curb needless fears, and let no fond conceit 
Abuse your freedom ; woman, take and eat. 

Eve. 'Tis true, we are immortal; death is yet 
Unborn, and, till rebellion make it debt, 
Undue : I know the fruit is good, until 
Presumptuous disobedience make it ill. 
The lips that open to this fruit's a portal 
To let in death, and makes immortal mortal. 

Serp. You cannot die ; come, woman, taste, and 
fear not. 

Eve. Shall Eve transgress? I dare not, O, I dare 
not! 

Serp. Afraid? why draw'st thou back thy tim'roue 
arm? 
Harm only falls on such as fear a harm. 
Heav'n knows and fears the virtue of this tree : 
'Twill make ye perfect gods as well as he. 
Stretch forth thy hand, and let thy fondness never 
Fear death : do, pull and eat, and live for ever. 

Eve. 'Tis but an apple ; and it is as good 
To do as to desire. Fruit's made for food : 
I'll pull, and taste, and tempt my Adam, too, 
To know the secrets of this dainty. 

Serp. Do. 






BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 13 

S. Chris, sup. Matth. 

He forced him not : he touched him not : only said, 
Cast thyself down ; that we may know whosoever obeys 
the devil casts himself down : for the devil may sug- 
gest ; compel he cannot. 

S* Bern, in Ser. 

It is the devil's part to suggest ; ours, not to consent. 
As often as we resist him, so often we overcome him : 
as often as we overcome him, so often we bring joy 
to the angels, and glory to God ; who opposeth us, 
that we may contend ; and assisteth us, that we may 
conquer. 



Epig. I. 



Unlucky parliament ! wherein, at last, 
Both houses are agreed, and firmly past 
An act of death confirm'd by higher pow'rs 
O had it had but such success as ours ! 



C. 



BOOK I.— EMBLEM II. 



James i. 15. 



Then j when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin 
and sin, when it isjinished, bringeth forth death. 

Lament, lament ; look, look, what thou hast done : 

Lament the world's, lament thy own estate : 
Look, look, by doing, how thou art undone; 
Lament thy fall, lament thy change of state : 
Thy faith is broken, and thy freedom gone ; 

See, see too soon, what thou lament'st too late. 
O thou that wert so many men, nay, all 
Abridg'd in one, how has thy desp'rate fall 
Bestroy'd thy unborn seed, destroy'd thyself withal ! 



Uxorious Adam, whom thy Maker made 

Equal to angels that excel in pow'r, 
What hast thou done ? O why hast thou obey'd 

Thy own destruction ? like a new-cropt flow'r, 
How does the beauty of thy glory fad ! 

How are thy fortunes blasted in an hour ! 

How art thou cow'd that hadst the pow'r to quell 

The spite of new-fall'n angels, baffle hell, 
And vie with those that stood, and vanquish those 
that fell ! 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 15 



See how the world (whose chaste and pregnant womb 

Of late conceiv'd, and brought forth nothing ill) 
Is now degenerated, and become 

A base adult'ress, whose false births do fill 
The earth with monsters — monsters that do roam 
And rage about, and make a trade to kill : 

Now Glutt'ny paunches ; Lust begins to spawn ; 
Wrath takes revenge, and Avarice a pawn 
Pale Envy pines, Pride swells, and Sloth begins to 
yawn. 



The air, that whisper'd, now begins to roar, 

And blust'ring Boreas blows the boiling tide ; 
The white-mouth'd water now usurps the shore, 
And scorns the pow'r of her tridental guide ; 
The fire now burns, that did but warm before, 
And rules her ruler with resistless pride : 

Fire, water, earth, and air, that first were made 
To be subdu'd, see how they now invade ; 
They rule whom once they serv'd, command where 
once obey'd. 



Behold, that nakedness, that let bewray'd 

Thy glory, now's become thy shame, thy wonder; 
Behold, those trees, whose various fruits were made 
For food, now turn'd a shade to shroud thee under ; 
Behold, that voice, (which thou hast disobey'd), 
That late was music, now affrights like thunder. 
Poor man! are not thy joints grown sore with 

shaking, 
To view th'effect of thy bold undertaking, 
That in one hour didst mar what Heav'n six days 
was making? 



16 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 

S. August, lib. 1. de Lib. Arbit. 

It is a most just punishment that man should lose 
that freedom which man would not use, yet had power 
to keep if he would; and that he who had knowledge 
to do what was right, and did not, should be deprived 
of the knowledge of what was right ; and that he who 
would not do righteously, when he had the power, 
should lose the power to do it when he had the will. 

Hugo de Animci. 

They are justly punished that abuse lawful things, 
but they are most justly punished that use unlawful 
things : thus Lucifer fell from heaven ; thus Adam 
lost his paradise. 



Epig. 2. 



See how these fruitful kernels, being cast 
Upon the earth, how thick they spring ! how fast ! 
A full-ear' d crop and thriving, rank and proud ! 
Prepost'rous man first sow'd, and then he plough'd. 



BOOK I.— EMBLEM III. 



Prov. xiv. 13. 

Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful ; and 
the end of that mirth is heaviness. 

Alas ! fond child, 

How are thy, thoughts beguil'd 
To hope for honey from a nest of wasps ? 
Thou may'st as well 

Go seek for ease in hell, 
Or sprightly nectar from the mouths of asps. 

The world's a hive, 
From whence thou canst derive 
No good, but what thy soul's vexation brings : 
But case thou meet 
Some petty-petty-sweet, 
Each drop is guarded with a thousand stings. 

Why dost thou make 
These murm'ring troops forsake 
The safe protection of their waxen homes ? 
This hive contains 
No sweet that's worth thy pains ; 
There's nothing here, alas! but empty combs. 

For trash and toys, 
And grief-engend'ring joys, 
What torment seems to sharp for flesh and blood ? 
What bitter pills, 
Compos'd of real ills, 
Men swallow down, to purchase one false good ! 



18 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 



The dainties here 
Are least what they appear ; 
Though sweet in hopes, yet in fruition sour 
The fruit that's yellow 
Is found not always mellow; 
The fairest tulip's not the sweetest flow'r. 



Fond youth, give o'er, 
And vex thy soul no more 
In seeking what were better far unfound ; 
Alas ! thy gains 
Are only present pains 
To gather scorpions for a future wound. 

"What's earth ? or in it, 
That, longer than a minute, 
Can lend a free delight that can endure 1 
O who would droil,* 
Or delve in such a soil, 
"Where gain's uncertain, and the pain is sure ? 



* Droil, i.e. drudge. 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 19 

S. August. 



Sweetness in temporal matters is deceitful : it is a 
labour and a perpetual fear ; it is a dangerous pleasure, 
whose beginning is without providence, and whose 
end is not without repentance. 



Hugo. 



Luxury is an enticing pleasure, a bastard mirth, 
which hath honey in her mouth, gall in her heart, and 
a sting in her tail. 



Epig. 3. 



What, Cupid, are thy shafts already made ? 
And seeking honey to set up thy trade, 
True emblem of thy sweets ! thy bees do bring 
Honey in their mouths, but in their tails a sting. 



BOOK L— EMBLEM IV. 



Psalm lxii. 9. 

To be laid in the balance, it is altogether lighter 
than vanity. 

Put in another weight: 'tis yet too light : 

And yet, fond Cupid, put another in ; 
And yet another : still there's under weight : 
Put in another hundred : put again ; 

Add world to world ; then heap a thousand more 
To that ; then, to renew thy wasted store, 
Take up more worlds on trust, to draw thy balance 
low'r. 

Put in the flesh, with all her loads of pleasure ; 
Put in great Mammon's endless inventory ; 

Put in the pond'rous acts of mighty Csesar : 

Put in the greater weight of Sweden's glory ; 

Add Scipio's gauntlet ; put in Plato's gown : 
Put Circe's charms, put in the triple crown. 

Thy balance will not draw ; thy balance will not down. 

Lord ! what a world is this, which, day and night, 

Men seek with so much toil, with so much trouble ! 
"Which, weigh'd in equal scales, is found so light, 
So poorly overbalanc'd with a bubble ! 

Good God! that frantic mortals should destroy 
Their higher hopes, and place their idle joy 
Upon such airy trash, upon so light a toy ! 



BOOK I EMBLEMS. 21 



Thou bold impostor, how hast thou befool'd 
The tribe of man with counterfeit desire ! 
How has the breath of thy false bellows cool'd 

Heav'n's free-born flames, and kindled bastard fire ! 

How hast thou vented dross instead of treasure, 

And cheated man with thy false weights and 

measure, 

Proclaiming bad for good, and gilding death with 

pleasure! 



The world's a crafty strumpet, most affecting 

And closely following those that most reject her ; 
But seeming careless, nicely disrespecting 
And coyly flying those that most affect her. 

If thou be free, she's strange; if strange, she's free: 
Flee, and she follows ; follow, and she'll flee : 
Than she there's none more coy, there's none more 
fond than she. 



O what a crocodilian world is this, 

Compos'd of treach'ries and insnaring wiles ! 
She clothes destruction in a formal kiss, 
And lodges death in her deceitful smiles : 

She hugs the soul she hates; and there does 

prove 
The veriest tyrant, where vows to love ; 
And is a serpent most when most she seems a dove. 



Thrice happy he, whose nobler thoughts despise 

To make an object of so easy gains : 
Thrice happy he, who scorns so poor a prize 
Should be the crown of his heroic pains: 

Thrice happy he, that ne'er was born to try 
Her frowns or smiles; or being born, did lie 
In his sad nurse's arms an hour or two, die. 



22 EMBLEMS. EOOK I. 



St. August, lib. Confess. 

O you that dote upon this world, for what victory 
do ye fight \ Yor hopes can be crowned with no greater 
reward than the world can give ; and what is the world 
but a brittle thing full of dangers, wherein we travel 

from lesser to greater perils ? O let all her vain, light, 
and momentary glory perish with herself; and let us 
be conversant with more eternal things. Alas ! this 
world is miserable ; life is short, and death is sure. 



Epig. 4. 

My soul, what's lighter than a feather ? Wind. 

Than wind? The fire. And what than fire 1 The mind. 

What's lighter than the mind? A thought. Than 

thought ? 
This babble world. What than this bubble ? Nought. 









BOOK L— EMBLEM V 



1. Cor. vii. 31. 

The fashion of this world pas seth away. 

Gone are those golden days, wherein y^/ 
Pale concsience started not at ugly sin : 

When good old Saturn's peaceful throne 
Was unusurped by his beardless son : 

When jealous Ops ne'er fear'd th' abuse 
Of her chaste bed, or breach of nuptial truce : 

When just Astrsea pois'd her scales 
In mortal hearts, whose absence earth bewails : 

When froth-born Venus and her brat, 
With all that spurious brood young Jove begat. 

In horrid shapes were yet unknown; 
Those halcyon days, that golden age, is gone. 

There was no client then to wait 
The leisure of his long-tail'd advocate; 

The talion* law was in request, 
And Chanc'ry Courts were kept in ev'ry breast : 

Abused statutes had no tenters, 
And men could deal secure without indentures : 

* Talion lavj, or the law of retaliation, a punishment in the 
Mosaic law, wherebv an evil is returned similar to that committed. 



24 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 

There was no peeping-hole to clear 
The wittol's* eye from his incarnate fear : 

There were no lustful cinders then 
To broil the carbonado'd hearts of men : 

The rosy cheeks did then proclaim 
A shame of guilt, but not a guilt of shame : 

There was no whining soul to start 
At Cupid's twang, or curse his naming dart : 

The boy had then but callow wings, 
And fell Erenny's scorpions had no stings : 

The better-acted world did move 
Upon the fixed poles of truth and love. 

Love essenc'd in the hearts of men : 
Then reason rul'd, there was no passion then ; 

Till lust and rage began to enter, 
Love the circumfrence was, and love the centre ; 

Until the wanton days of Jove, 
The simple world was all compos'd of love ; 

But Jove grew fleshly, false, unjust ; 
Inferior beauty fill'd his veins with lust : 

And cucqueant Juno's fury hurl'd 
Fierce balls of rape into th' incestuous world : 

Astreea fled, and love return'd 
From earth, earth boil'd with lust, with rage it burn'd, 

And ever since the world hath been 
Kept going with the scourge of lust and spleen. 

* Wittol, a contented cuckold, 
t Cucquean, lewd. 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 25 



S. Ambrose. 

Lust is a sharp spur to vice, which always putteth 
the affections into a false gallop. 



Hugo. 

Lust is an immoderate wantonness of the flesh, a 
sweet poison, a cruel pestilence ; a pernicious poison, 
which weakeneth the body of man, and effeminateth 
the strength of an heroic mind. 






S. 'August. 

Envy is the hatred of another's felicity : in respect 
of superiors, because they are not equal to them ; in 
respect of inferiors, lest he should be equal to them ; 
in respect of equals, because they are equal to 
them : through envy proceeded the fall of the world, 
and death of Christ. 



Epig. 5. 

What, Cupid, must the world be lash'd so soon ? 
But made at morning, and be whipp'd at noon ? 
'Tis like the wag that plays with Venus' doves, 
The more 'tis lash'd, the more perverse it proves. 



BOOK L— EMBLEM VI 



Eccles. ii. 17. 
All is vanity and vexation of Spirit. 

How is the anxious soul of man befool'd 

In his desire, 
That thinks a hectic fever may be cool'd 

In flames of fire ; 
Or hopes to rake full heaps of burnish'd gold 

From nasty mire ! 
A whining lover may as well expect 

A scornful breast 
To melt in gentle tears, as woo the world for rest. 

Let "Wit, and all her study'd plots, effect 

The best they can : 
Let smiling Fortune prosper and perfect 

What Wit began ; 
Let Earth advise with both, and so project 

A happy man ; 
Let Wit or fawning Fortune vie their best ; 

He may be blest 
With all the earth can give ; but earth can give no rest. 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 27 

Whose gold is double with a careful hand, 

His cares are double ; 
The pleasure, honour, wealth of sea and land, 

Bring but a trouble ; 
The world itself, and all the world's command, 

Is but a bubble. 
The strong desires of man's insatiate breast 

May stand possest 
Of all that earth can give ; but earth can give no rest. 

The world's a seeming paradise, but her own 

And man's tormentor ; 
Appearing fix'd, yet but a rolling-stone 

Without a tenter ; 
It is a vast circumference, where none 

Can find a centre. 
Of more than earth, can earth make none possest ; 

And he that least 
Regards this restless world, shall in this world find rest. 

True rest consists not in the oft revying* 

Of wordly dross : 
Earth's miry purchase is not worth the buying ; 

Her gain is loss ; 
Her rest but giddy toil, if not relying 

Upon her cross. 
How wordlings droilf for trouble ! that fond breast, 

That is possest 
Of earth without a cross, has earth without a rest. 

* Revying is to stake at play a larger sum of money than another 
has laid. 

f Droit, labour. 



28 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 



Cass. 



The cross is the invincible sanctuary of the humble, 
the dejection of the proud, the victory of Christ, the 
destruction of the devil, the confirmation of the faith- 
ful, the death of the unbeliever, the life of the just. 

Damascen. 

The Cross of Christ is the key of Paradise ; the 
weak man's staff; the convert's convoy ; the upright 
man's perfection ; the soul and body's health ; the pre- 
vention of all evil, and the procurer of all good. 



Epig. 6. 



Worldlings, whose whimp'ring folly holds the losses 
Of honour, pleasure, health, and wealth, such crosses, 
Look here, and tell me what your arms engross, 
When the best end of what you hug's a cross ? 



BOOK I.— EMBLEM VII. 



1 Peter v. 8. 

Be sober, be vigilant ; because your adversary the devil, 
as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he 
may devour. 



Why dost shou suffer lustful sloth to creep, 
Dull CyjDrian lad, into thy wanton brows ? 
Is this a time to pay thine idle vows 

At Morpheus' shrine ? Is this a time to steep 

Thy brains in wasteful slumbers ? Up, and rouse 

Thy leaden spirit : Is this a time to sleep ? 
Adjourn thy sanguine dreams, awake, arise, 
Call in thy thoughts ; and let them all advise, 

Hadst thou as many heads as thou hast wounded eyes. 



Look, look, what horrid furies do await 

Thy flatt'ring slumbers ! If thy drowsy head 
But chance to nod, thou fall'st into a bed 

Of sulph'rous flames, whose torments want a date. 
Fond boy, be wise, let not thy thoughts be fed 

With Phrygian wisdom ; fools are wise too late : 
Beware betimes, and let thy reason sever 
Those gates which passion clos'd ; wake now or 
never ; 

For if thou nodd'st thou fall'st ; and falling, fall'st for 
ever. 



30 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 



Mark how the ready hands of Death prepare : 

His bow is bent, and he hath notch'd his dart ; 

He aims, he levels at thy slumb'ring heart : 
The wound is posting ; O be wise, beware. 

What, has the voice of danger lost the art 
To raise the spirit of neglected care ? 

Well, sleep thy fill, and take thy soft reposes ; 

But know, withal, sweet tastes have sour closes ; 
And he repents in thorns that sleeps in beds of roses. 



Yet, sluggard, wake, and gull thy soul no more 

With earth's false pleasure, and the world's delight. 

Whose fruit is fair and pleasing to the sight, 
But sour in taste, false as the putrid core : 

Thy flaring glass is gems at her half light ; 
She makes thee seeming rich, but truly poor : 

She boasts a kernel, and bestows a shell ; 

Performs an inch of her fair-promis'd ell : 
Her words protest a heav'n; her works produce a hell. 



O thou, the fountain of whose better part 
Is earth'd and gravell'd up "with vain desire : 
That daily wallow'st in the fleshly mire 

And base pollution of a lustful heart, 

That feel'st no passion but in wanton fire, 

And own'st no torment but in Cupid's dart ; 
Behold thy type : thou sitt'st upon this ball 
Of earth secure ; while Death, that flings at all, 

Stands arm'd to strike thee down, where flames attend 
thy fall. 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 31 



S. Bern. 



Security is nowhere ; neither in Heaven nor in 
Paradise, much less in the world. In Heaven the 
angels fell from the Divine Presence; in Paradise 
Adam fell from his place of pleasure ; in the world 
Judas fell from the school of our Saviour. 



Hugo. 



I eat secure, I drink secure, I sleep secure, even as 
though 1 had passed the day of death, avoided the day 
of judgment, and escaped the torments of hell-fire. I 
play and laugh, as though I were already triumph- 
ing in the kingdom of Heaven. 



Epig. 7. 



Get up, my soul ! redeem thy slavish eyes 
From drowsy bondage : O beware, be wise ! 
Thy foe's before thee ; thou must fight or fly; 
Life lies most open in a closed eye. 



BOOK I.— EMBLEM VIII. 



Luke vi. 25. 

Woe unto you that laugh, now ! for ye shall mourn 
and weep. 

The world's a popular disease, that reigns 

Within the froward heart and frantic brains 

Of poor distemper'd mortals, oft arising 

From ill digestion, through th' unequal poising 

Of ill-weigh 'd elements, whose light directs 

Malignant humours to malign effects. 

One raves and labours with a boiling liver : 

Rends hair by handfuls, cursing Cupid's quiver : 

Another, with a bloody flux of oaths, 

Vows deep revenge : one doats ; the other loathes : 

One frisks and sings, and cries " A flagon more, 

To drench dry cares, and make the welkin* roar !" 

Another droops ; the sunshine makes him sad ; 

Heav'n cannot please : one's mop'd ; the other's mad : 

One hugs his gold ; another lets it fly : 

He knowing not for whom ; nor t' other why. 

One spends his day in plots, his night in play ; 

Another sleeps and slugsf both night and day : 

* Welkin, the firmament, or sky. 
t Slugs, to act slothfully. 






BOOK I EMBLEMS. 33 

One laughs at this thing ; t' other cries for that ; 
But neither one nor t' other knows for what. 
Wonder of wonders ! what we ought t' evite* 
As our disease, we hug as our delight. 
'Tis held a symptom of approaching danger 
"When disacquainted sense becomes a stranger, 
And takes no knowledge of an old disease ; 
But, when a noisome grief begins to please 
The unresisting sense, it is a fear 
That death has parley'd, and compounded there. 
As, when the dreadful Thund'rer's awful hand 
Pours forth a vial on th' infected land, 
At first th' affrighten'd mortals quake and fear, 
And ev'ry noise is thought the Thunderer : 
But, when the frequent soul-departing bell 
Has pav'd their ears with her familiar knell, 
It is reputed but a nine-days' wonder ; 
They neither fear the Thund'rer nor his thunder. 
So, when the world (a worse disease) began 
To smart for sin, poor new-created man 
Could seek for shelter, and his gen'rous son 
Knew by his wages what his hands had done : 
But bold-fac'd mortals, in our blushless times, 
Can sing and smile, and make a sport of crimes, 
Transgress of custom, and rebel in ease. 
We false-joy'd fools can triumph in disease, 
And (as the careless pilgrim, being bit 
By the tarantula, begins a fit 
Of life- concluding laughter) waste our breath 
In lavish pleasure, till we laugh to death* 

* Evite, to shun or avoid. 



34 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 

Hugo de Anima* 



What profit is there in vain glory, momentary 
mirth,the world's power,the flesh's pleasure,full riches, 
noble descent, and great desires ? Where is their 
laughter 1 Where is their mirth ? Where their in- 
solence — their arrogance? From how much joy to 
how much sadness ! After how much mirth, how 
much misery ! From how great glory are they fallen, 
to how great torment ! What hath fallen to them may 
befall thee, because thou art a man : thou art of earth; 
thou livest of earth ; thou shalt return to earth. Death 
expecteth thee every where ! Be wise, therefore, and 
expect death every where. 



Epig. 8. 



What ails the fool to laugh ? Does something please 
His vain conceit 1 Or is' t a mere disease ? 
Fool, giggle on, and waste thy wanton breath ; 
Thy morning laughter breeds an ev'ning death. 



BOOK I.— EMBLEM IX. 



1 John ii. 17. 
The world passeth away., and all the lusts thereof. 

Draw near, brave sparks, whose spirits scorn to 
light 
Your hallow'd tapers but at honour's flame; 
You, whose heroic actions take delight 
To varnish over a new painted name ; 
Whose high-bred thoughts disdain to take their flight, 
But on th' Icarian wings of babbling Fame ; 

Behold, how tott'ring are your high-built stories 
Of earth, whereon you trust the ground-work of your 
glories. 

And you, more brain-sick lovers, that can prize 

A wanton smile before eternal joys; 
That know no heav'n but in your mistress' eyes ; 

That feel no pleasure but what sense enjoys : 
That can, like crown-distemper'd fools, despise 

True riches, and, like babies, whine for toys : 
Think ye the pageants of yourhopes are able 
To stand secure on earth, when earth itself 's unstable? 

Come, dunghill wordings, you that root like swine, 

And cast up golden trenches where ye come : 
Whose only pleasure is to undermine, 

And view the secrets of your mother's womb : 
Come, bring your saint, pouch'd in his leathern 
shrine, 
And summon all your griping angels home : 
Behold your world, the bank of all your store ; 
The world ye so admire, the world ye so adore. 



36 EMBLEMS. BOOK I, 



A feeble world, whose hot-mouth'd pleasures tire 
Before the race ; before the start, retreat : 

A faithless world, whose false delights expire 
Before the term of half their promis'd date : 

A fickle world, not worth the least desire, 

Where ev'ry chance proclaims a change of state : 
A feeble, faithless, fickle world, wherein 

Each motion proves a vice, and every act a sin. 



The beauty, that of late was in her flow'r, 

Is now a ruin, not to raise a lust , 
He that was lately drench'd in Danae's show'r, 

Is master now of neither gold nor trust ; 
Whose honour late was mann'd with princely pow'r, 
His glory now lies buried in the dust ; 

O who would trust this world, or prize what's 
in it, 
That gives and takes, and chops, and changes, ev'ry 
minute ! 



Nor length of days, nor solid strength of brain, 

Can find a place wherein to rest secure : 
The world is various, and the earth is vain ; 

There's nothing certain here, there's nothing sure ; 
We trudge, we travel, but from pain to pain, 
And what's our only griefs our only cure : 

The world's a torment ; he that would endeavour 
To find the way to rest, must seek the way to leave 
her. 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 37 



St. Greg, in Horn, 



Behold, the world is withered in itself, yet flou- 
risheth in our hearts, every where death, every where 
grief, every where desolation : on every side we are 
smitten ; on every side filled with bitterness ; and yet, 
with the blind mind of carnal desire, we love her bit- 
terness. It flieth and we follow it ; it falleth, yet we 
stick to it: and, because we cannot enjoy it falling, 
we fall with it, and enjoy it fallen. 



Epig. 9. 



If fortune fail, or envious Time but spurn, 
The world turns round, and with the world we turn 
When Fortune sees, and lynx-ey'd Time is blind, 
I'll trust thy joys, O world; till then, the wind. 



B, 



BOOK L— EMBLEM X, 



John viii. 44. 

Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your 
father ye will do. 

Here's your right ground : wag gently o'er this 

black : 
'Tis a short cast ; y' are quickly at the jack ; 
Rub, rub an inch or two ; two crowns to one 
On this bowl's side; blow wind, 'tis fairly thrown : 
The next bowl's worse that comes; come, bowl 

away; 
Mammon, you know the ground untutor'd, play : 
Your last was gone ; a yard of strength, well spar'd, 
Had touch'd the block : your hand is still too hard. 
Brave pastime, readers, to consume that day, 
Which, without pastime, flies too swift away ! 
See how they labour ; as if day and night 
"Were both too short to serve their loose delight : 
See how their curved bodies writhe, and screw 
Such antic shapes as Proteus never knew : 
One raps an oath, another deals a curse ; 
He never better blow'd ; this vever worse : 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 39 

One rubs his itchless elbow, shrugs, and laughs, 

The other bends his beetle brows, and chafes : 

Sometimes they whoop, sometimes their Stygian cries 

Send their black Santos to the blushing skies: 

Thus mingling humours in a mad confusion, 

They make bad premises, and worse conclusion : 

But where's the palm that fortune's hand allows 

To bless the victor's honourable brows ? 

Come, reader, come ; I'll light thine eye the way 

To view the prize, the while the gamesters play : 

Close by the jack, behold, jill Fortune stands 

To wave the game; see in her partial hands 

The glorious garland's held in open show, 

To cheer the lads, and crown the conqu'ror's brow. 

The world's the jack ; the gamesters that contend 

Are Cupid, Mammon: that judicious friend, 

That gives the ground, is Satan : and the bowls 

Are sinful thoughts ; the prize, a crown for fools. 

Who breathes that bowls not? "What bold tongue can 

say, 
Without a blush, he hath not bowl'd to-day ? 
It is the trade of man, and ev'ry sinner 
Has play'd his rubbers . ev'ry soul's a winner. 
The vulgar proverb's crost, he hardly can 
Be a good bowler and an honest man. 
Good God ! turn thou may Brazil thoughts anew ; 
New-sole my bowls, and make their bias true. 
I'll cease to game till fairer ground be giv'n, 
Nor wish to win until the mark be Heav'n. 



40 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 



S. Bernards Lib. de Consid. 

O you sons of Adam, you covetous generation, 
what have ye to do with earthly riches, which are 
neither true nor yours? Gold and silver are real earth, 
red and white, which only the error of man makes, or 
rather reputes, precious: in short, if they be yours, 
carry them with you. 



St. Hieron. in Ep. 



O lust, thou infernal fire, whose fuel is gluttony ; 
whose flame is pride ; whose sparkless are wanton 
words ; whose smoke is infamy ; whose ashes are un- 
cleanness ; whose end is hell. 



Epig. 10. 



Mammon, well follow'd ; Cupid, bravely led : 
Both touchers ; equal fortune makes a dead : 
No reed can measure where the conquest lies : 
Take my advice ; compound, and share the prize.. 



BOOK I.— EMBLEM XI 



Ephes. ii. 2. 



Ye walked according to the course of this world, accord- 
ing to the prince of the air. 



O whither will this mad-brain world at last 

Be driven ? Where will her restless wheels arrive ? 
Why hurries on her ill-match'd pair so fast ? 

O whither means her furious groom to drive ? 
What, will her rambling fits be never past ? 
For ever ranging ? Never once retrieve ? 

Will earth's perpetual progress ne'er expire ? 
Her team continuing in their fresh career : 
And yet they never rest, and yet they never tire. 



Sol's hot-mouth'd steeds, whose nostrils vomit flame, 

And brazen lungs belch forth quotidian fire, 
Their twelve hours' task perform'd, grow stiff and 
lame, 
And their immortal spirits faint and tire : 
At th' azure mountain's foot their labours claim 
The privilege of rest, where they retire 

To quench their burning fetlocks, and go steep 
Their flaming nostrils in the western deep, 
And Tresh their tired souls with strength-restoring 
sleep. 



42 EMBLEMS. 



BOOK I. 



But these prodigious hackneys, basely got 

Twixt men and devils, made for race or flight, 
Can drag the idle world, expecting not 

The bed of rest, but travel with delight ; 
Who, never weighing way nor weather, trot 

Thro' dust and dirt, and droil both day and night: 
Thus droil these fiends incarnate, whose free 

pains 
Are fed with dropsies and venereal blains. 
No need to use the whip ; but strength to rule the 
reins. 



Poor captive world ? How has thy lightness giv'n 

A just occasion to thy foes' illusion ! 
O, how art thou betray'd, thus fairly driv'n 

In seeming triumph to thy own confusion ! 
How is thy empty — universe bereav'n 

Of all true joys, by one false joy's delusion ! 
So I have seen an unblown virgin fed 
With sugar'd words so full, that she is led 
A fair attended bride to a false bankrupt's bed. 



Pull, gracious Lord ! Let not thine arm forsake 

The world, impounded in her own devices : 
Think of that pleasure that thou once didst take 

Amongst the lilies and sweet beds of spices. 
Hale strongly, thou whose hand has pow'r to slack 
The swift-foot fury often thousand vices : 
Let not thy dust-devouring dragon boast 
His craft has won what Judah's lion lost : 
Remember what is crav'd ; recount the price it cost. 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 43 



Isidor. Lib. 1. de Summo Bono* 



By how much the nearer Satan perceiveth the 
world to an end, by so much the more fiercely he 
troubleth it with persecution : that knowing himself 
is to be damned, he may get company in his 
damnation. 



Cyp. in Ep. 



Broad and spacious is the road to infernal life ; 
there are enticements and death-bringing pleasures. 
There the devil flattereth, that he may deceive ; 
smileth, that he may endamage ; allureth ; that he 
may destroy. 



Epig. 11. 



Nay, soft and fair, good world; post not too fast; 
Thy journey's end requires not half this haste. 
Unless that arm thou so disdain'st reprives* thee, 
Alas ! thou needs must go, the devil drives thee. 



* Reprives, curbs, restrains ; from the French, repr inter. 



BOOK I.— EMBLEM XII. 

Isaiah lxvi. II. 



Ye may suck, but not be satisfied with the breast of 
her consolation. 



What, never fill'd ? Be thy lips screw'd so fast 
To th' earth's full breast? for shame, for shame 
unseize thee ; 
Thou tak'st a surfeit where thou should'st but taste, ' 
And mak'st too much not half enough to please 
thee. 
Ah, fool, forbear ; thou swallowest at one breath 
Both food and poison down ! thou draw'st both milk 
and death. 



The ub'rous breasts, when fairly drawn, repast 
The thriving infant with their milky flood ; 
But, being overstrain'd, return at last 

Unwholesome gulps compos'd of wind and blood. 

A mod'rate use does both repast and please ; 

Who strains beyond a mean, draws in and gulps 

disease. 
But O, that mean, whose good the least abuse 
Makes bad, is too, too hard to be directed : 
Can thorns bring grapes, or crabs a pleasing juice ? 
There's nothing wholesome where the whole's 
infected. 
Unseize thy lips ; earth's Milk's a ripen'd core, 
That drops from her disease, that matters from her 
sore. 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 45 



Think'st thou that paunch, that burlies out thy coat 
Is thriving fat ; or flesh, that seems so brawny I 

Thy paunch is dropsied and thy cheeks are bloat ; 
Thy lips are white, and that complexion tawny ; 
Thy skin's a bladder blown with wat'ry tumours ; 

Thy fieshnrembling bog, a quagmire full of humours. 



And thou, whose thriveless hands are ever straining 
Earth's fluent breasts into an empty sieve, 

That always hast, yet always art complaining, 

And whin'st for more than earth has pow'r to give ; 
Whose treasure flows and flees away as fast ; 

That ever hast, and hast, yet hast not what thou hast. 



Go choose a substance, fool, that will remain 
Within the limits of thy leaking measure ; 

Or else go seek an urn that will retain 
The liquid body of thy sleep'ry treasure : 
Alas ! how poorly are thy labours crown'd ! 

Thy liquor's never sweet, nor yet thy vessel sound. 



What less than fool is man to prog and plot, 

And lavish out the cream of all his care, 
To gain poor seeming goods ; which, being got, 
Make firm possession but a through fare ; 

Or, if they stay, they furrow thoughts the deeper ; 
And, being kept with care, they loose their careful 
keeper. 



46 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 



S. Geog. Horn. 3. secund. Parte Ezech. 



If we give more to the flesh than we ought, we 
nourish an enemy ; if we give not to her necessity 
what we ought, we destroy a citizen : the flesh is to 
be satisfied so far as suffices to our good: whosoever 
alloweth so much to her as to make her proud, knoweth 
not how to be satisfied : to be satisfied is a great art; 
lest, by the satiety of the flesh, we break forth into 
the iniquity of her folly. 



Hugo de Anima. 



The heart is a small thing, but desireth great mat- 
ters. It is not sufficient for a kite's dinner, yet the 
whole world is not sufficient for it. 



Epig. 12. 



What makes thee, fool, so fat ? Fool, thee so bare ? 
Ye suck the self-same milk, the self-same air : 
No mean betwixt all paunch, and skin and bone ? 
The mean's a virtue, and the world has none. 



BOOK L— EMBLEM XIII. 



1 John iii. 19. 



Men love darkness rather than light, because their 
deeds are evil. 



Lord, when we leave the world and come to thee, 

How dull, how slug are we ! 
How backward ! How prepost'rous is the motion 

Of our ungain devotion ! 
Our thoughts are millstones, and our souls are lead, 

And our desires are dead : 
Our vows are fairly promis'd, faintly paid ; 

Or broken, or not made : 
Our better work (if any good) attends 

Upon our private ends : 
In whose performance one poor wordly scoff 

Foils us, or beats us off. 
If thy sharp scourge find out some secret fault, 

We grumble, or revolt ; 
And if thy gentle hand forbear, we stray, 

Or idly lose the way. 
Is the road fair ? we loiter ; clogg'd with mire ? 

We stick, or else retire 



48 EMBLEMS. 



BOOK I. 



A Iamb appears a lion ; and we fear 

Each bush we see's a bear. 
When our dull souls direct their thoughts to thee, 
The soft-pac'd snail is not so slow as we. 
But when at earth we dart our wing'd desire, 

We burn, we burn like fire, 
Like as the am'rous needle joys to bend 

To her magnetic friend : 
Or as the greedy lover's eye- balls fly 

At his fair mistress' eye ; 
So, so we cling to earth ; we fly and puff, 

Yet fly not fast enough. 
If Pleasure beckon with her balmy hand, 

Her beck's a strong command : 
If Honour calls us with her courtly breath, 

An hour's delay is death : 
If Profit's golden-finger'd charm inveigles, 

We clip more swift than eagles : 
Let Auster weep, or blust'ring Boreas roar, 

Till eyes or lungs be sore : 
Let Neptune swell, until his dropsy sides 

Burst into broken tides : 
Nor threat'ning rocks, nor winds, nor waves, nor fire, 

Can curb our fierce desire : 
Nor fire, nor rocks, can stop our furious minds, 

Nor waves, nor winds : 
How fast and fearless do our footsteps flee ! 
The lightfoot roebuck's not so swift as we. 






BOOK I EMBLEMS. 49 



S. August, sup. PsaL lxiv. 



Two several loves built to several cities : the love 
of God builds a Jerusalem ; the love of the world 
builds a Babylon. Let every one inquire of himself 
what he loveth, and he shall resolve himself of whence 
he is a citizen. 



S. August. Lib. 3. Confess. 



All things are driven by their own weight, and tend 
to their own centre : my weight is my love ; by that 
I am driven withersoever I am driven. 



Ibidem. 



Lord, he loveth thee the less, that loveth any thing 
with thee, which he loveth not for thee. 



Epig. 13. 



Lokd, scourge my ass, if she should make no haste, 

And curb my stag, if he should flee too fast : 

If he be over swift, or she prove idle, 

Let love lend her a spur ; fear, him a bridle. 






BOOK I.— EMBLEM XIV 



Psalm xiii. 3. 



Lighten mine eyes, O Lord, lest I sleep the sleep of 
death. 



Will't ne'er be morning ? Will that promis'd light 
Ne'er break, and clear those clouds of night ? 
Sweet Phosphor, bring the day, 
Whose conqu'ring ray 
May chase these fogs : sweet Phosphor, bring the 
day. 



How long ! how long shall these benighted eyes 

Languish in shades, like feeble flies 
Expecting spring ? How long shall darkness soil 

The face of earth, and thus beguile 
Our souls of rightful action ? When will day 

Begin to dawn, whose new-born ray 
May gild the weathercocks of our devotion, 

And give our unsoul'd souls new motion ? 
Sweet Phosphor, bring the day ; 
Thy light will fray 
These horrid mists ; sweet Phosphor, bring the day. 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 51 



Let those have night that slily love t' immure 

Their cloister'd crimes, and sin secure ; 
Let those have night that blush to let men know 

The baseness they ne'er blush to do ; 
Let those have night that love to take a nap, 

And loll in Ignorance's lap : 
Let those whose eyes, like owls, abhor the light, 

Let those have night, that love the night : 
Sweet Phosphor, bring the day : 
How sad delay 
Afflicts dull hopes ! sweet Phosphor, bring the day. 



Alas ! my light-in-vain-expecting eyes 

Can find no objects but what rise 
From this poor mortal blaze — a dying spark 

Of Vulcan's forge, whose flames are dark 
And dangerous ; a dull, blue-burning light, 

As melancholy as the night : 
Here's all the suns that glister in the sphere 
Of earth : Ah me ! what comfort's here ? 
Sweet Phosphor, bring the day ; 
Haste, haste away, 
Heav'n's loit'ring lamp ; sweet Phosphor, bring the 
day. 



Blow, Ignorance ! O thou, whose idle knee 

Rocks earth into a lethargy, 
And with thy sooty fingers has bedight 

The world's fair cheeks, blow, blow thy spite : 
Since thou hast puft our greater taper, do 

Puff on, and out the lesser too : 
If ere that breath-exiled flame return, 

Thou hast not blown as it will burn : 
Sweet Phosphor, bring the day : 
Light will repay 
The wrongs of night; sweet Phosphor, bring the day. 



52 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK I. 



S. August, in Joh. Ser. xix. 



God is all to thee : If thou be hungry, he is bread ; 
if tiursty, he is water ; if in darkness, he is light ; if 
naked, he is a robe of immortality. 



Alanus de Conq, Nat. 



God is a light that is never darkened : an un- 
wearied life that cannot die ; a fountain always flow- 
ing ; a garden of life ; a seminary of wisdom ; a ra- 
dical beginning of all goodness. 



Epig. 14. 



My soul, if Ignorance puff out this light, 
She'll do a favour that intends a spite : 
It seems dark abroad ; but take this light away, 
Thy windows will discover break of day. 



BOOK I.— EMBLEM XV. 



Rev. xii. 12. 



The devil is come unto you having great wrath, because 
he knoweth that he hath but a short time. 



Lord ! canst thou see and suffer ? Is thy hand 
Still bound to th' peace ? Shall earth's black mo- 
narch take 
A full possession of thy wasted land ? 

O, will thy slumb'ring vengeance never wake, 
Till full-ag'd law resisting Custom shake 
The pillars of thy right, by false command ? 

Unlock thy clouds, great Thund'rer, and come 

down ; 
Behold whose temples wear thy sacred crown ; 
Redress, redress our wrongs; revenge, revenge thy 
own. 



See how the bold usurper mounts the seat 

Of royal majesty : how overstrawing 
Perils with pleasure, pointing ev'ry threat 

With bugbear death, by torments overawing 

Thy frighted subjects , or by favours drawing 
Their tempted hearts to his unjust retreat ; 

Lord, canst thou be so mild, and he so bold ? 

Or can thy flocks be thriving when the fold 
Is govern'd by the fox ? Lord, canst thou see and 
hold ? 



54 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 



That swift- wing'd advocate, that did commence 
Our welcome suits before the King of kings ; 

That sweet ambassador, that hurries hence 

What airs th' harmonious soul or sighs or sings, 
See how she flutters with her idle wings ; 

Her wings are dipt, and eyes put out by sense : 
Sense-conqu'ring Faith is now grown blind and 

cold, 
And basely craven'd,* that, in times of old, 

Did conquer Heav'n itself, do what th' Almighty 
could. 



Behold, how double Fraud does scourge and tear 

Astrsea's wounded sides, plough'd up, and rent 
With knotted cords, whose fury has no ear ; 

See how she stands a pris'ner, to be sent 

A slave, into eternal banishment, 
I know not whither, O, I know not where,: 

Her patent must be cancell'd in disgrace ; 

And sweet-lipp'd Fraud, with her divided face, 
Must act Astrsea's part, must take Astreea's place. 



Faith's pinions dipt 1 and fair Astreea gone ? 

Quick-seeing Faith now blind 1 and Justice see ? 
Has Justice now found wings ? and has Faith none ? 

What do we here ? who would not wish to be 

Dissolv'd from earth, and, with Astrssa, flee 
From this blind dungeon to that sun-bright throne ? 

Lord, is thy sceptre lost, or laid aside ? 

Is hell broke loose, and all her fiends unty'd ? 
Lord, rise, and rouse, and rule, and crush their fu- 
rious pride. 



Craven'd, disheartened, made to knock under, &c. 



BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 55 



Peter Rav. in Matth. 



The devil is the author of evil, the fountain of 
wickedness, the adversary of the truth, the corrupter 
of the world, man's perpetual enemy: he planteth 
snares, diggeth ditches, spurreth bodies ; he goadeth 
souls, he suggesteth thoughts, belcheth anger, ex- 
poseth virtues to hatred, maketh vices beloved, soweth 
error, nourisheth contentions, disturbeth peace, and 
scattereth affliction. 



Macar. 

Let us suffer with those that suffer, and be crucified 
with those that are crucified, that we may be glorified 
with those that are glorified. 



Savanar. 



If there be no enemy, no fight ; if no fight, no vic- 
tory ; if no victory, no crown. 



Epig. 15. 



My soul, sit thou a patient looker on ; 
Judge not the play before the play be done : 
Her plot has many changes : ev'ry day 
Speaks a new scene ; the last act crowns the play. 



BOOK THE SECOND. 

EMBLEM 1. 

Isaiah 1. 11. 

You that walk in the light of your ownjire, and in the 
sparks that ye have kindled, ye shall lie down 
in sorrow. 



Do, silly Cupid, snuff and trim 

Thy false, thy feeble light, 
And make her self- consuming flames more bright ; 
Methinks she burns to dim. 
Is this that sprightly fire, 
Whose more than sacred beams inspire 
The ravish'd hearts of men, and so inflame desire ? 



See, boy, how thy unthrifty blaze 
Consumes ; how fast she wanes ; 
She spends herself, and her, whose wealth maintains 
Her weak, her idle rays. 
Cannot thy lustful blast, 
Which gave it lustre, make it last ? 
What heart can long be pleas'd, where pleasure 
spends so fast ? 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 57 



Go, wanton, place thy pale-fac'd light 

"Where never breaking day- 
Intends to visit mortals, or display 
The sullen shades of night : 
Thy torch will burn more clear 
In night's un-Titan'd hemisphere ; 
Heav'n's scornful flames and thine can never co-appear. 



In vain thy busy hands address 

Their labour, to display 
Thy easy blaze within the verge of day ; 
The greater drowns the less ! 
If Heav'n's bright glory shine, 
Thy glimm'ring sparks must needs resign ; 
Puff out Heav'n's glory then, or Heaven will work 
out thine. 



Go, Cupid's rammish pander, go, 

Whose dull, whose low desire 
Can find sufficient warmth from Nature's fire, 
Spend borrow'd breath, and blow, 
Blow wind made strong with spite ; 
When thou hast puff'd the greater light 
Thy lesser spark may shine, and warm the new-made 
night. 



Deluded mortals, tell me, when 

Your daring breath has blown 
Heav'n's taper out, and you have spent your own, 
What fire shall warm ye then ? 
Ah, fools ! perpetual night 
Shall haunt your souls with Stygian fright, 
Where they shall boil in flames, but flames shall bring 
no light. 



58 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 



S. August. 



The sufficiency of merit is to know that my merit is 
not sufficient. 



S. Greg, Mor. xxv. 

By how much the less man seeth himself, by so 
much the less he displeaseth himself; and by how 
much the more he seeth the light of grace, by so much 
the more he disdaineth the light of Nature. 



St. Greg. Mor. 

The light of the understanding humility kindleth 
and pride covereth. 



Epig. 1. 



Thou blow'st Heav'n's fire, the whilst thou go'st about, 

Rebellious fool, in vain, to blow it out : 

Thy folly adds confusion to thy death ; 

Heav'n's fire confounds when fan'd with Folly's breath. 






BOOK II.— EMBLEM II, 



Eccles. iv. 8. 

There is no end of all his labour; neither is his eye 
satisfied with riches. 

O How our widen'd arms can overstretch 

Their own dimensions ! How our hands can reach 

Beyond their distance : How our yielding breast 

Can shrink to be more full, and full possest 

Of this inferior orb ! How earth refin'd 

Can cling to sordid earth ! How kind to kind ! 

We gape, we grasp, we gripe, add store to store ; 

Enough requires too much ; too much craves more. 

We charge our souls so sore beyond our stint, 

That we recoil or burst : the busy mint 

Of our laborious thoughts is ever going, 

And coining new desires ; desires not knowing 

Where next to pitch ; but, like the boundless ocean, 

Gain, and gain ground, and grow more strong by 

motion. 
The pale-fac'd lady of the black-ey'd night 
First tips her horned brows with easy light, 
Whose curious train of spangled nymphs attire 
Her next night's glory with increasing fire ; 
Each ev'ning adds more lustre, and adorns 
The growing beauty of her grasping horns : 



60 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 

She sucks and draws her brother's golden store, 

Until her glutted orb can suck no more. 

E'en so the vulture of insatiate minds 

Still wants, and wanting seeks, and seeking finds 

New fuel to increase her rav'nous fire ; 

The grave is sooner cloy'd than man's desire : 

We cross the seas, and midst her waves we burn, 

Transporting lives, perchance, that ne'er return : 

We sack, we ransack to the utmost sands 

Of native kingdoms and of foreign lands : 

We travel sea and soil ; we pry, we prowl, 

We progress, and we prog from pole to pole : 

We spend our mid-day sweat, our midnight oil ; 

We tire the night in thought, the day in toil : 

We make art servile, and the trade gentile, 

(Yet both corrupted with ingenious guile,) 

To compass Earth, and with her empty store 

To fill our arms, and grasp one handful more : 

Thus seeking rest, our labours never cease, 

But, as our years, our hot desires increase : 

Thus we, poor little worlds ! with blood and sweat, 

In vain attempt to comprehend the great : 

Thus, in our gain, become we gainful losers, 

And what 's enclosed encloses the enclosers. 

Now, reader, close thy book, and then advise ; 

Be wisely worldly, be not worldly wise : 

Let not thy nobler thoughts be always raking 

The world's base dunghill ; vermin's took by taking: 

Take heed thou trust not the deceitful lap 

Of wanton Delilah : the world's a trap. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 61 



Hugo de Anima* 



Tell me, where be those now, that so lately loved 
and hugged the world? Nothing remaineth of them 
but dust and worms : observe what those men were ; 
what those men are. They were like thee; they did 
eat, drink, laugh, and led merry days ; and in a mo- 
ment slipt into hell. Here their flesh is food for 
worms ; there their souls are fuel for fire, till they 
shall be rejoined in an unhappy fellowship, and cast 
into eternal torments; where they that were once 
companions in sin shall be hereafter partners in 



punishment. 



Epig. 2. 



Gripe, Cupid, and gripe still, until that wind, 
That's pent before, find secret vent behind : 
And when thou'st done, hark here, I tell thee what, 
Before I'll trust thy armful, I'll trust that. 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM III. 



Job xviii. 8. 
He is cast into a net hy his own feet, and walketh upon 



a snare. 



What ! nets and quiver too ? what need there all 

These sly devices to betray poor men ? 
Die they not fast enough when thousands fall 

Before thy dart ! what need these engines then ? 
Attend they not, and answer to thy call, 

Like nightly coveys, where thou -list, and when ? 
What needs a stratagem where strength can 

sway ? 
Or what needs strength compel where none 
gainsay ? 
Or what needs stratagem or strength where hearts 
obey? 



Husband thy sleights : it is but vain to waste 

Honey on those that will be catch'd with gall ; 
Thou canst not, ah ! thou canst not bid so fast 

As men obey ; thou art more slow to call 
Than they to come ; thou canst not make such haste 
To strike, as they, being struck, make haste to fall. 
Go save thy nets for that rebellious heart 
That scorns thy pow'r, and has obtain'd the art 
T* avoid thy flying shaft, to quench thy fiery dart. r ' 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 63 



Lost mortal ! how is thy destruction sure, 

Between two bawds, and both without remorse ! 
The one's a line, the other is a lure ; 

This to entice thy soul ; that t' enforce. 
Waylaid by both, how canst thou stand secure ? 
That draws ; this woos thee to th' eternal curse. 
O charming tyrant, how hast thou befool'd 
And slav'd poor man, that would not, if he 
could ! 
Avoid thy line, thy lure ; nay, could not, if he would ! 



Alas ! thy sweet perfidious voice betrays 

His wanton ears with thy Sirenian baits : 
Thou wrapp'st his eyes in mists, then boldly lays 

Thy lethal* gins before their crystal gates ; 
Thou lock'st up ev'ry sense with thy false keys, 
All willing pris'ners to thy close deceits : 
His ear most nible where it deaf should be ; 
His eye-most blind where most it ought to see ; 
And, when his heart's most bound, then thinks itself 
most free. 



Thou grand impostor ! how hast thou obtain'd 

The wardship of the world ? Are all men turn'd 
Idiots and lunatics ? Are all retain'd 

Beneath thy servile bands ? Is none return'd 
To his forgoten self? Has none regain'd 
His senses ? Are their senses all adjourn'd ? 

What, none dismiss'd thy court? Will not plump 

fee 
Bribe thy false fists to make a glad decree, 
T' unfool whom thou hast fool'd, and set thy pris'ners 
free ? 

* Lethal, mortal, deadly. 



64 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 



S. Bern, in Ser. 



In this world is much treachery, little truth : here 
all things are traps ; here every thing is beset with 
snares ; here souls are endangered, bodies are afflicted : 
here all things are vanity and vexation of spirit. 



Epig. 3. 



Nay, Cupid, pitch thy trammel where thou please, 
Thou canst not fail to take such fish as these. 
Thy thriving sport will ne'er be spent : no need 
To fear, when ev'ry cork's a world : Thou'lt speed. 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM IV 



Hosea xiii. 3. 



They shall be as the chaff that is driven with a whirl- 
wind out of the floor, and as the smoke out of 
the chimney, 

Flint-breasted Stoics, you whose marble eyes 

Contemn a wrinkle, and whose souls despise 

To follow Nature's too affected fashion, 

Or travel in the regent walk of passion ; 

"Whose rigid hearts disdain to shrink at fears, 

Or play at fast or loose, with smiles and tears ; 

Come, burst your spleens with laughter to behold 

A new-found vanity, which days of old 

Ne'er knew : a vanity that has beset 

The world, and made more slaves than Mahomet ; 

That has condemn'd us to the servile yoke 

Of slavery, and made us slaves to smoke. 

But stay, why tax I thus our modern times 

For new-blown follies, and for new-born crimes ; 

Are we sole guilty, and the first age free ? 

No, they were smok'd and slav'd as well as we : 

"What's sweet-lipp'd Honour's blast but smoke ? 
"What's treasure 

But very smoke ? And what more smoke than plea- 
sure ? 



66 EMBLEMS. 



BOOK II. 



Alas ! they're all but shadows, fumes, and blasts ; 
That vanishes, this fades the other wastes. 
The restless merchant, he that loves to steep 
His brains in wealth, and lays his soul to sleep 
In bags of bullion, sees th' immortal crown, 
And fain would mount, but ingots keep him down. 
He brags to-day, perchance, and begs to-morrow : 
He lent but now ; wants credit, now, to borrow : 
Blow wind ? the treasure's gone, the merchant's 

broke ; 
A slave to silver's but a slave to smoke. 
Behold the glory- vying child of Fame, 
That from deep wounds sucks forth an honour'd name; 
That thinks no purchase worth the style of good, 
But what is sold for sweat, and seal'd with blood : 
That for a point, a blast of empty breath, 
Undaunted gazes in the face of death ; 
"Whose dear-bought bubble, fill'd with vain renown, 
Breaks with a fillip, or a gen'ral's frown : 
His stroke-got honour staggers with a stroke ; 
A slave to honour is a slave to smoke. 
And that fond soul, which wastes his idle days 
In loose delights, and sports about the blaze 
Of Cupid's candle ; he that daily spies 
Twin babies in his mistress' Geminies, 
"Whereto his sad devotion does impart 
The sweet burnt-offring of a bleeding heart ; 
See how his wings are sing'd in Cyprian fire, 
"Whose flames consume with youth, in age expire : 
The world's a bubble; all the pleasures in it, 
Like morning vapours, vanish in a minute : 
The vapours vanish, and the bubble's broke ; 
A slave to pleasure is a slave to smoke. 
Now, Stoic, cease thy laughter, and repast 
Thy pickled cheeks with tears, and weep as fast.. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 67 



St. Hieron. 

That rich man is great who thinketh not himself 
great because he is rich : the proud man (who is the 
poor man) braggeth outwardly, but beggeth inwardly ; 
he is blown up, but not full. 



Petr. Rav. 



Vexation and anguish accompany riches and ho- 
nour : the pomp of the world, and the favour of the 
people, are but smoke, and a blast suddenly vanish- 
ing; which, if they commonly please, commonly bring 
repentance ; and, for a minute of joy, they bring an 
age of sorrow. 



Epig. 4. 



Cupid, thy diet's strange : it dulls, it rouses ; 
It cools, it heats ; it binds, and then it looses : 
Dull-sprightly-cold-hot fool, if e'er it winds thee 
Into a loosness once, take heed ; it binds thee* 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM V. 



Prov. xxiii. 5. 

Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that ivhich is not ? for 
riches make themselves wings ; they fiy away as an 
eagle* 



False world, thou ly'st : thou canst not lend 

The least delight : 
Thy favours cannot gain a friend, 

They are so slight : 
Thy morning pleasures make an end 

To please at night : 
l^oor are the wants that thou supply'st ; 
And yet thou vaunt'st, and yet thou vy'st 
With Heaven ! fond earth, thou boast'st ; false world, 

thou ly'st. 



Thy babbling tongue tells golden tales 

Of endless treasure : 
Thy bounty offers easy sales 

Of lasting pleasure ; 
Thou ask'st the Conscience what she ails, 

And swear'st to ease her : 
There's none can want where thou supply'st ; 
There's none can give where thou deny'st : 
Alas! fond world, thou boast'st; false world, thou 

ly'st. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 69 



What well-advised ear regards 

What Earth can say ? 
Thy words are gold, but thy rewards 

Are painted clay : 
Thy cunning can but pack the cards ; 

Thou canst not play : 
Thy game at weakest, still thou vy'st ;* 
If seen, and then revy'd, deny'st : 
Thou art not what thou seem'st false world, thou ly'st. 



Thy tinsel bosom seems a mint 

Of new-coin'd treasure ; 
A paradise, that has no stint, 

No change, no measure ; 
A painted cask, but nothing in % 

Nor wealth, nor pleasure : 
Vain earth, that falsely thus comply'st 
With man ; vain man, that thus rely'st 
On earth : vain man, thou doat'st ; vain earth, thou 

iy'st. 



What mean dull souls, in this high measure 

To haberdash 
In earth's base wares, whose greatest treasure 

Is dross and trash ; 
The height of whose enchanting pleasure 

Is but a flash ? 
Are these the goods that thou supply'st 
Us mortals with ? Are these the high'st • 
Can these bring cordial peace? False world, thou 

ly'st. 



* Vy'st, a worp used at cards ; i. e. to challenge. 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK II. 



Pet. Bles. 



The world is deceitful : her end is doubtful ; her 
conclusion is horrible ; her Judge is terrible ; and her 
punishment is intolerable. 



£. August. Lib. Confess. 



The vain-glory of this world is a deceitful sweet- 
ness, a fruitless labour, a perpetual fear, a dangerous 
honour : her beginning is without providence, and her 
end not without repentance. 



Epig, 5. 



World, thou'rt a traitor ; thou hast stamp'd thy base 
And chymic metal with great Caesar's face ; 
And with thy bastard bullion thou hast bart'red 
For wares of price ; how justly drawn and quarter'd ! 



BOOK IL— EMBLEM VI 



Job xv. 31. 



Let not him that is deceived trust in vanity ; for vanity 
shall be his recompense. 



Believe her not, her glass diffuses 
False portraitures : thou canst espy 

No true reflection : she abuses 
Her misinform'd beholder's eye ; 

Her crystal's falsely steel'd ; it scatters 

Deceitful beams ; believe here not, she flatters. 



This flaring mirror represents 

No right proportion, hue, nor feature : 

Her very looks are compliments ; 

They make thee fairer, goodlier, greater : 
The skilful gloss of her reflection 

But paints the context of thy coarse complexion. 



"Were thy dimension but a stride, 
Nay, wert thou statur'd but a span, 

Such as the long-bill'd troops defy'd, 
A very fragment of a man 1 

She'll make thee Mimas, which ye will 

The Jove-slain tyrant, or th' Ionic hill. 



72 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 



Had surfeits, or th' ungracious star, 
Conspir'd to make one common place 

Of all deformities that are 

Within the volume of thy face, 

She 'd lend thee favour should outmove 

The Troy-bane Helen, or the queen of love. 



Were thy consum'd estate as poor 

As Laz'rus or afflicted Job's, 
She '11 change thy wants to seeming store, 

And turn thy rags to purple robes : 

She '11 make thy hide- bound flank appear 
As plump as theirs that feast it all the year. 



Look off, let not thy optics be 

Abus'd : thou see'st not what thou should'st : 
Thyself's the object thou should'st see, 

But 'tis thy shadow thou behold'st : 

And shadows thrive the more in stature, 
The nearer we approach the light of nature. 



Where Heav'n's bright beams look more direct, 
The shadow shrinks as they grow stronger ; 

But, when they glance their fair aspect, 
The bold-fac'd shade grows larger, longer : 
And, when their lamp begins to fall, 

Th' increasing shadows lengthen most of all. 



The soul that seeks the noon of grace 
Shrinks in, but swells if grace retreat : 

As Heav'n lifts up, or veils his face, 
Our self-esteems grow less or great. 
The least is greatest ; and who shall 

Appear the greatest, are the least of all. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 73 



Hugo, Lib. m. de Anima. 

In vain he lifteth up the eye of his heart to behold 
his God, who is not first rightly advised to behold 
himself : First, thou must see the visible things of 
thyself, before thou canst be prepared to know the 
invisible things of God ; for, if thou canst not ap- 
prehend the things within thee, thou canst not com- 
prehend the things above thee: the best looking-glass, 
wherein to see thy God, is perfectly to see thyself. 



Epig. 6. 



Be not deceiv'd, great fool : there is no loss 
In being small ; great bulks but swell with dross. 
Man is Heav'n's masterpiece : if it appear 
More great, the value's less ; if less more dear. 



H 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM VII 



Deuteronomy xxx. 19. 



I have set before thee life and death, blessing and cursing; 
therefore choose life, that thou and thy seed may live. 



The world's a floor, whose swelling heaps retain 

The mingled wages of the ploughman's toil : 
The world's a heap, whose yet unwinnow'd grain 

Is lodg'd with chaff and buried in her soil : 
All things are mix'd, the useful with the vain ; 
The good with bad, the noble with the vile ; 

The world's an ark, wherein things pure and 

gross 
Present their lossful gain, and gainful loss, 
"Where ev'ry dram of gold contains a pound of dross. 



This furnish'd ark presents the greedy view 

With all that earth can give, or Heav'n can add ; 
Here lasting joys, here pleasures hourly new, 
And hourly fading, may be wish'd and had : 
All points of honour, counterfeit and true, 

Salute thy soul, and wealth both good and bad : 
Here may'st thou open wide the two-leav'd door 
Of all thy wishes, to receive that store, 
"Which, being emptied most, doth overflow the more. 



BOOK H. EMBLEMS. 75 



Come then, my soul, approach this royal burse,* 

And see what wares our great exchange retains : 
Come, come ; here's that shall make a firm divorce 
Betwixt thy wants and thee, if want complains : 
No need to sit in council with thy purse, 

Here's nothing good shall cost more price than 
pains : 
But, O my soul, take heed ; if thou rely 
Upon thy faithless optics, thou wilt buy 
Too blind a bargain; know, fools only trade by 
th' eye. 



The worldly wisdom of the foolish man 
Is like a sieve, that doth alone retain 
The grosser substance of the worthless bran ; 

But thou, my soul, let thy brave thoughts disdain 
So coarse a purchase : O be thou a fan 

To purge the chaff, and keep the winnow'd grain : 
Make clean thy thoughts, and dress thy mix'd 

desires : 
Thou art Heav'n's tasker ; and thy God requires 
The purest of thy floor, as well as of thy fires. 



Let grace conduct thee to the paths of peace, 

And wisdom bless thy soul's unblemish'd ways ; 
No matter, then, how short or long's the lease, 

Whose date determines thy self-number'd days : 
No need to care for wealth's or fame's increase, 
Nor Mars's palm, nor high Apollo's bays. 
Lord, if thy gracious bounty please to fill 
The floor of my desires, and teach me skill 
To dress and choose the corn, take those the chaff 
that will. 



* Burse r an exchange ; a place for the meeting of merchants, and 
where shops are kept. 




76 EMBLEMS. BOOK II 



S. August. Lib. i. de Doct. Christi. 

Temporal things more ravish in the expectation than 
in fruition : but things eternal more in the fruition 
than expectation. 



Ibidem, 



The life of man is the middle between angels and 
beasts : if man takes pleasure in carnal things, he is 
compared to beasts ; but if he delights in spiritual 
things, he is suited with angels. 



Epig, 10. 



Art thou a child ? Thou wilt not then be fed 
But like a child, and with the children's bread 
But thou art fed with chaff or corn undrest : 
My soul, thou savour'st too much of the beast. 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM VIII. 



Philippians iii. 19, 20. 



They mind earthly things, but our conversation is in 
heaven. 



VENUS. DIVINE CUPID. 

Ven. What means this peevish brat ? Whish, lul- 
laby ; 
What ails my babe ? what ails may babe to cry I 
Will nothing still it? Will it neither be 
Pleas'd with the nurse's breast or mother's knee I 
What ails my bird ? What moves my froward boy 
To make such whimp'ring faces ? Peace, my joy : 
Will nothing do ? Come, come, this pettish brat, 
Thus cry and brawl, and cannot tell for what ? 
Come, buss and friends, my lamb ; wish lullaby ; 
What ails my babe ? what ails my babe to cry l 
Peace, peace, my dear ; alas ! thy early years 
Had never faults to merit half these tears ; 
Come, smile upon me : let thy mother spy 
Thy father's image in her baby's eye : 
Husband these guiltless drops against the rage 
Of harder fortunes, and the gripes of age ; 
Thine eye's not ripe for tears : Whish, lullaby ; 
What ails my babe, my sweet- fac'd babe, to cry ? 



78 EMBLEMS. 



BOOK II. 



Look, look, what's here ! A dainty golden thing : 
See how the dancing bells turn round and ring, 
To please my bantling ? Here's a knack will breed 
A hundred kisses : here's a knack indeed. 
So, now my bird is white, and looks as fair 
As Pelop's shoulder, or my milk-white pair : 
Here's right the father's smile : when Mars beguil'd 
Sick Venus of her heart, just thus he smil'd. 



Divine Cupid. 

"Well may they smile alike ; thy base-bred boy 
And his base sire had both one cause — a toy : 
How well their subjects and their smiles agree ! 
Thy Cupid finds a toy, and Mars found thee : 
False queen of beauty, queen of false delights, 
Thy knee presents an emblem, that invites 
Man to himself, whose self-transported heart 
(O' erwhelm'd with native sorrows, and the smart 
Of purchas'd griefs) lies whinning night and day, 
Not knowing why, till heavy-heel'd Delay, 
The dull-brow'd pander of Despair, lays by 
His leaden buskins, and presents his eye 
With antic trifles, which the indulgent earth 
Makes proper objects of man's childish mirth. 
These be the coin that pass, the sweets that please; 
There's nothing good, there's nothing great, but 

these : 
These be the pipes that base-born minds dance after, 
And turn immod'rate tears to lavish laughter ; 
Whilst heav'nly raptures pass without regard ; 
Their strings are harsh, and their high strains un- 
heard : 
The ploughman's whistle, or the trivial flute, 
Find more respect than great Apollo's lute : 
We' 11 look to Heav'n, and trust to higher joys ; 
Let swine love husks, and children whine for toys. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 79 



S. Bern. 

That is the true and chief joy, which is not con- 
ceived from the creature, but received from the Crea- 
tor, which (being once possessed thereof) none can 
take from thee: whereto all pleasure, being compared, 
is torment, all joy is grief, sweet things are bitter, all 
glory is baseness, and all delectable things are 
despicable. 

Bern. 



Joy, in a changeable subject, must necessarily 
change as the subject changeth. 



Epig. 8. 



Peace, childish Cupid, peace : thy finger'd eye 
But cries for what, in time, will make thee cry. 
But are thy peevish wranglings thus appeas'd ? 
Well may'st thou cry, that art so poorly pleas'd 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM IX. 



Isaiah x. 3. 

What will ye do in the day of your visitation ? to whom 
will ye flee for help? and where will ye leave your 
glory ? 

Is this that jolly god, whose cyprian bow 

Has shot so many flaming darts, 
And made so many wounded beauties go 
Sadly perplex'd with whimp'ring hearts ? 
Is this that sov'reign deity, that brings 
The slavish world in awe, and stings 
The blund'ring souls of swains, and stoops the hearts 
of kings ? 

What Circean charm, what Hecatean spite, 

Has thus abus'd the god of love ? 
Great Jove was vanquish'd by his greater might ; 
(And who is stronger-arm' d than Jove ?) 
Or has our lustful god perform' d a rape, 
And (fearing Argus' eyes) would 'scape 
The view of jealous Earth, in this prodigious shape 

Where be those rosy cheeks, that lately scorn'd 

The malice of injurious fates ? 
Ah ! where's that pearl portcullis,* that adorn'd 
Those dainty two-leav'd ruby gates ? 

Where be those killing eyes that so controll'd 
The world, and locks that did infold 
Like nots of flaming wire, like curls of burnish'd 
gold? 

* Portcullis (a term of fortification) ; i. e. a grate dropped 
down, to stop a gateway. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 81 



No, no, 'twas neither Hecatean spite, 

Nor charm below, nor power above ; 
'Twas neither Circe's spell, nor Stygian sprite, 
That thus transform'd our god of love ; 

'Twas owl-ey'd Lust (more potent far than they), 
Whose eyes and actions hate the day ; 
Whom all the world observe, whom all the world 
obey. 



See how the latter trumpet's dreadful blast 

Affrights stout Mars's trembling son ! 
See how he startles ! how he stands aghast, 
And scrambles from his melting throne ! 

Hark, how the direful hand of vengeance tears 
The swilt'ring clouds, whilst Heav'n appears 
A circle fill'd with flame, and centred with his fears ! 



This is that day, whose oft report hath worn 

Neglected tongues of prophets bare ; 
The faithless subject of the worldling's scorn, 
The sum of men and angels' pray'r : 

This, this the day, whose all-discerning light 
Ransacks the secret dens of night, 
And severs good from bad; true joys from false 
delight. 



You grov'ling wordlings, you whose wisdom trades 

Where Light ne'er shot his golden ray, 
That hide your actions in Cimmerian shades, 
How will your eyes endure this day ? 

Hills will be deaf, and mountains will not hear ; 
There be no caves, no corners there, 
To shade your souls from fire, to shield your hearts 
from fear. 



82 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK II. 



Hugo, 

O the extreme loathsomeness of fleshy lust, which 
not only effeminates the mind, but ernervates the 
body ; which not only distaineth the soul, but dis- 
guiseth the person! It is ushered with fury and 
wantonness; it is accompanied with filthiness and 
uncleanness; and it is followed with grief and re- 
pentance. 



Epig. 9. 



What, sweet-fac'd Cupid, has thy bastard treasure, 
Thy boasted honours, and thy bold-fac'd pleasure, 
Perplex'd thee now ? I told thee, long ago, 
To what they'd bring thee, fool — to wit, to woe. 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM X, 



Nahum ii. 10. 

She is empty, and void, and waste. 

She's empty: hark! she sounds: there's nothing 
there 

But noise to fill thy year ; 
Thy vain inquiry can at length but find 

A blast of murm'ring wind : 
It is a cask, that seems as full as fair, 

But merely tunn'd with air ; 
Fond youth, go build thy hopes on better grounds : 

The soul that vainly founds 
Her joys upon this world, but feeds on empty sounds. 

She's empty : hark ! she sounds : there's nothing 
in't ; 

The spark- engend'ring flint 
Shall sooner melt, and hardest raunce* shall, first, 

Dissolve and quench thy thirst, 
Ere this false world shall still thy stormy breast 

With smooth-fac'd calms of rest. 
Thou may'st as well expect meridian light 

From shades of black-mouth'd night, 
As in this empty world to find a full delight. 

* Raunce, dry mouldy crust of bread. 



84 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK II. 



She's empty : hark ! she sounds : 'tis void and vast ; 

What is some flattening blast 
Of flatuous honour should perchance be there, 

And whisper in thine ear ? 
It is but wind, and blows but where it list, 

And vanishes like mist. 
Poor honour earth can give ! what gen'rous mind 

"Would be so base to bind 
Her heav'n-bred soul a slave, to serve a blast of wind ? 



She's empty : hark ! she sounds : 'tis but a ball 

For fools to play withal : 
The painted film but of a stronger bubble, 

That's lin'd with silken trouble : 
It is a world, whose work and recreation 

Is vanity, and vexation ; 
A hag, repair'd with vice- complexion, paint : 

A quest-house of complaint : 
It is a saint, a fiend ; worse fiend when most a saint. 



She's empty : hark ! she sounds : 'tis vain and void; 

What's here to be enjoy 'd 
But grief and and sickness, and large bills of sorrow, 

Drawn now, and cross'd to-morrow 1 
Or what are men but puffs of dying breath, 

Reviv'd with living death ? 
Fond lad, O build thy hopes on surer grounds 

Than what dull flesh propounds ; 
Trust not this hollow world ; she's empty : hark ! she 
sounds. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS, 85 



S. Chrys* in Ep. ad Heb. 

Contemn riches, and thou shalt be rich ; contemn 
glory, and thou shalt be glorious ; contemn injuries, 
and thou shalt be a conqueror; contemn rest, and 
thou shalt gain rest ; contemn earth, and thou shalt 
find Heaven. 



Hugo Lib. de Vanit. Mundi. 

The world is vanity which affordeth neither beauty 
to the amorous, nor reward to the laborious, nor en- 
couragement to the industrious. 



Epig. 10. 



This house is to be let for life or years ; 

Her rent is sorrow, and her income tears : 

Cupid, \ has long stood void; her bills make known, 

She must be dearly let, or let alone. 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM XL 



Matt. vii. 14. 

Narrow is the way that leadeih unto life, and few there 
he that find it. 

Prepost'rous fool, thou troul'st* amiss : 
Thou err'st; that 's not the way, 'tis this : 
Thy hopes, instructed by thine eye, 
Make thee appear more near than I ; 
My floor is not so flat, so fine, 
And has more obvious rubs than thine ; 
'Tis true, my way is hard and strait, 
And leads me through a thorny gate, 
Whose rankling pricks are sharp and fell ; 
The common way to Heaven's by hell. 
'Tis true, thy path is short and fair, 
And free of rubs : Ah ! fool, beware, 
The safest road's not always ev'n ; 
The way to hell 's a seeming Heav'n : 
Think'st thou the crown of glory's had 
With idle ease, fond Cyprian lad ? 
Think'st thou that mirth, and vain delights, 
High feed, and shadow- short'ning nights, 

* Trv.Vst, i. e. roll a ball. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 87 



Soft knees, full bags, and beds of down, 

Are proper prologues to a crown ? 

Or canst thou hope to come, and view, 

Like prosp'rous Caesar, and subdue ? 

The bond-slave usurer will trudge, 

In spite of gouts, will turn a drudge, 

And serve his soul-condemning purse, 

T increase it with the widow's curse : 

And shall the crown of glory stand 

Not worth the waving of a hand ? 

The fleshly wanton, to obtain 

His minute-lust, will count it gain 

To lose his freedom, his estate, 

Upon so dear, so sweet a rate. 

Shall pleasures thus be priz'd, and must 

Heav'n's palm be cheaper than a lust ? 

The true-bred spark, to noise* his name 

Upon the waxen wings of Fame, 

Will fight undaunted in a flood 

That 's rais'd with brackish drops and blood. 

And shall the promis'd crown of life 

Be thought a toy, not worth a strife ? 

An easy good brings easy gains ; 

But things of price are bought with pains. 

The pleasing way is not the right : 

He that would conquer Heav'n must fight. 

* Hoise, to hoist, or raise up. 



88 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 



S. Hieron in Ep. 

No labour is hard, no time is long, wherein the glory 
of eternity is the mark we level at. 



St. Greg. Lib. viii. Mor. 

The valour of a just man is, to conquer the flesh, 
to contradict his own will, to quench the delights 
of this present life, to endure and love the miseries 
of this world for the reward of a better, to contemn 
the flatteries of prosperity, and inwardly to overcome 
the fears of adversity. 



Epig. 11. 



Cupid, if thy smoother way were right, 

1 should mistrust this crown were counterfeit 
The way 's not easy where the prize is great 
I hope no virtues, where I smell no sweat. 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM XII . 



Galat. vi. 14. 
God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross. 



Can nothing settle my uncertain breast, 

And fix my rambling love ? 
Can my affections find out nothing best, 

But still and still remove ? 
Has earth no mercy ? Will no ark of rest 

Receive my restless dove ? 
Is there no good, than which there 's nothing higher, 

To bless my full desire 
"With joys that never change; with joys that ne'er 
expire ? 



I wanted wealth ; and, at my dear request, 

Earth lent a quick supply : 
I wanted mirth, to charm my sullen breast ; 

And who more brisk than I ? 
I wanted fame, to glorify the rest ; 

My fame flew eagle-high : 
My joy not fully ripe, but all decay 'd, 

Wealth vanish'd like a shade ; 
My mirth began to flag, my fame began to fade. 



90 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 



The world 's a ocean, hurried to and fro 

With ev'ry blast of passion : 
Her lustful streams, when either ebb or flow, 

Are tides of man's vexation : 
They alter daily, and they daily grow 

The worse by alteration : 
The earth's a cask full tunn'd, yet wanting measure ; 

Her precious wine is pleasure ; 
Her yest* is honour's puff; her leesf are worldly 
treasure. 



My trust is in the cross ; let beauty flag 

Her loose, her wanton sail ; 
Let count'nance-gilding Honour cease to brag 

In courtly terms, and vail ; 
Let ditch-bred Wealth henceforth forget to wag 

Her base, though golden, tail ; 
False beauty's conquest is but real loss, 

And wealth but golden dross ; 
Best honour's but a blast : my trust is in the cross. 



My trust is in the cross ; there lies my rest ; 

My fast, my sole delight : 
Let cold-mouth'd Boreas, or the hot-mouth'd East, 

Blow till they burst with spite ; 
Let earth and hell conspire their worst, their best, 

And join their twisted might ; 
Let show'rs of thunderbolts dart down and wound me, 

And troops of fiends surround me, 
All this may well confront, all this shall ne'er con- 
found me. 



* Yest or yeast, barm used for the fermentation of Liquors, 
f Lees, the settlement, or dregs, at bottom. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 91 



S. August. 



Christ's cross is the Chriscross* of all our hap- 
piness ; it delivers us from all blindness of error, and 
enriches our darkness with light; it restoreth the 
troubled soul to rest ; it bringeth strangers to God's 
acquaintance ; it maketh remote foreigners near neigh- 
bours ; it cutteth off discord ; concludeth a league of 
everlasting peace ; and is the bounteous author of all 
good. 



S. Bern, in Ser. de Resur, 

We find glory in the cross ; to us that are saved 
it is the power of God, and the fulness of all virtues. 



Epig. 12. 



I follow'd Rest ; Rest fled, and soon forsook me 
Iran from Grief; Grief ran, and overtook me. 
What shall I do ? Lest I be too much tost 
On worldly crosses, Lord, let me be crost. 



* Chriscross, a small cross prefixed to the Alphabet in Catholic 
spelling-books, the children of which religion generally call the 
Alphabet the Chriscross ; and in that sense the word is evidently 
-used here. 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM XIII. 



Prov. xxvi. 11. 

As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returns th 
to his folly. 

O, I am wounded ! and my wounds do smart 
Beyond my patience or great Chiron's art : 
I yield, I yield ; the day, the palm, is thine ; 
Thy bow 's more true, thy shaft 's more fierce, than 

mine. 
Hold, hold, O hold thy conqu'ring hand ! What need 
To send more darts ? the first has done the deed. 
Oft have we struggled, when our equal arms 
Shot equal shafts, inflicted equal harms ; 
But this exceeds, and with her flaming head, 
Twi-fork'd with death, has struck my conscience dead. 
But must I die ? Ah me ! if that were all, 
Then, then I'd stroke my bleeding wounds, and call 
This dart a cordial, and with joy endure 
These harsh ingredients, where my grief's my cure. 
But something whispers in my dying ear, 
There is an after- day ; which day I fear. 
The slender debt to nature 's quickly paid, 
Discharg'd, perchance, with greater ease than made ; 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 93 

But if that pale-fac'd sergeant make arrest, 

Ten thousand actions would (whereof the least 

Is more than all this lower world can bail) 

Be enter'd and condemn me to the jail 

Of Stygian darkness, bound in red-hot chains, 

And grip'd with tortures worse than Tityan pains. 

Farewell, my vain, farewell, my loose delights ; 

Farewell, my rambling days, my rev'ling nights : 

'Twas you betray'd me first, and, when ye found 

My soul at 'vantage, gave my soul the wound : 

Farewell, my bullion* gods, whose sov'reign looks 

So often catch'd me with their golden hooks : 

Go, seek another slave; ye must all go; 

I cannot serve my God and bullion too. 

Farewell, false Honuur; yon whose airy wings 

Did mount my soul above the thrones of kings ; 

Then flatter'd me, took pet, and, in disdain, 

Nipp'd my green buds : then kick'd me down again : 

Farewell, my bow ; farewell, my Cyprian quiver ; 

Farewell, dear world ; farewell, dear world, for ever. 

O, but this most delicious world, how sweet 

Her pleasures relish ! ah ! how jump-j- they meet 

The grasping soul, and with their sprightly fire 

Revive and raise, and rouse the rapt desire ! 

For ever ? O, to part so long ! what, never 

Meet more ? Another year, and then for ever : 

Too quick resolves do resolution wrong ; 

What part so soon, to be divorc'd so long ? 

Things to be done are long to be debated ; 

Heav'n's not decay'd. Repentance is not dated. 

* Bullion, gold or silver in the mass ; put for riches. 
t Jump, fit or'tally with. 



94 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 



S. August, lib. de Util. agen. Pcen. 

Go up, my soul, into the tribunal of thy conscience: 
there set thy guilty self before thyself: hide not thy- 
self behind thyself, lest God bring thee forth before 
thyself. 



S. August, in Soliloq. 

In vain is that washing, where the next sin defileth : 
he hath ill repented whose sins are repeated: that 
stomach is the worse for vomiting, that licketh up his 
vomit. 



Anselrn. 



God hath promised pardon to him that repenteth, 
but he hath not promised repentance to him that 
sinneth. 



Epig* 13. 

Brain-wounded Cupid, had this hasty dart, 
As it hath prick'd thy fancy, pierc'd thy heart, 
'T had been thy friend : O how hath it deceiv'd thee ! 
For had this dart but kill'd, this dart has sav'd thee. 



BOOK IL— EMBLEM XIV, 



Prov. xxiv. 16. 

A just man falleih seven times, and riseth up again ; 
but the wicked shall fall into mischief. 

'Tis but a foil at best, and that 's the most 

Your skill can boast : 
My slipp'ry footing fail'd me ; and you tript, 

Just as I slipt : 
My wanton weakness did herself betray 

With too much play : 
I was to bold ; he never yet stood sure, 

That stands secure : 
Who ever trusted to his native strength, 

But fell at length ? 
The title's craz'd,* the tenure is not good, 
That claims by th' evidence of flesh and blood. 

Boast not thy skill ; the righteous man falls oft, 

Yet falls but soft : 
There may be dirt to mire him, but no stones 

To crush his bones : 
What if he staggers ? nay, put case he be 

Foil'd on his knee ; 
That very knee will bend to Heav'n and woo 

For mercy too. 
The true-bred gamester ups afresh, and then 

Falls to 't again ; 
Whereas the leaden-hearted coward lies, 
And yields his conquer'd life, or craven'df dies. 

* Crazed, weak, 
t CraverCdf disheartened, made to knock under. 



96 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 



Boast not thy conquest, thou that ev'ry hour 

Fall'st ten times low'r ; 
Nay, hast not pow'r to rise, if not, in case, 

To fall more base : 
Thou wallow'st where I slip ; and thou dost tumble 

Where I but stumble : 
Thou glory'st in thy slav'ries' dirty badges, 

And fall'st for wages : 
Sour grief and sad repentance scours and clears 

My stains with tears : 
Thy falling keeps thy falling still in ure ;* 
But when I slip, I stand the more secure 



Lord, what a nothing is this little span 

We call a Man ! 
What fenny trash maintains the smoth'ring fires 

Of his desires ! 
How slight and short are his resolves at longest ! 

How weak at strongest! 
Oh, if a sinner, held by thy fast hand, 

Can hardly stand, 
Good God ! in what a desp'rate case are they 

That have no stay ! 
Man's state implies a necessary curse : 
When not himself, he 's mad ; when most himself, 
he 's worse. 

* Urc, use. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 97 



S. Ambvos. in Serm. ad Vinculo,. 

Peter stood more firmly after he had lamented 
his fall than before he fell ; insomuch that he found 
more grace than he lost grace. 



S. Chrys* in Ep. ad Heliod. Monach. 

It is no such heinous matter to fall afflicted, as, 
being down, to lie dejected. It is no danger for a 
soldier to receive a wound in battle ; but, after the 
wound received, through despair of recovery, to 
refuse a remedy : for we often see wounded champions 
wear the palm at last; and, after flight, crowned 
with victory. 



Epig. 14. 

Triumph not, Cupid, his mischance doth show 
Thy trade ; doth once ; what thou dost always do : 
Brag not too soon ; has thy prevailing hand . 
Foil'd him? Ah fool, thou'st taught him how to 
stand. 



BOOK II.— EMBLEM XV. 



Jer. xxxii. 40. 

/ will put my fear in their hearts, that they shall not 
depart from me. 

So, now the soul' s sublim'd ; her sour desires 
Are recalcin'd* in heavVs well-temper'd fires : 
The heart, restor'd and purg'd from drossy nature, 
Now finds the freedom of a new-born creature : 
It lives another life, it breathes new breath ; 
It neither feels nor fears the sting of death : 
Like as the idle vagrant (having none), 
That boldly 'doptsf each house he views his own ; 
Makes ev'ry purse his chequer ; J and, at pleasure, 
Walks forth, and taxes all the world like Caesar ; 
At length, by virtue of a just command, 
His sides are lent to a severer hand ; 
Whereon his pass, not fully understood, 
Is texted in a manuscript of blood ; 
Thus pass'd from town to town, until he come 
A sore repentant to his native home : 
E'en so the rambling heart, that idly roves 
From crime to sin, and, uncontroll'd, removes 
From lust to lust, when wanton flesh invites 
From old-worn pleasures to new choice delights ; 

* Recalcin'd : to caucile is, with chymists, to burn to a cinder. 
f ' Dopts, adopts, or makes his own, 
X Chequer, exchequer, or treasury. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 99 



At length corrected by the filial rod 

Of his offended, but his gracious God, 

And lash'd from sins to sighs ; and, by degrees, 

From sighs to vows, from vows to bended knees ; 

From bended knees to a true pensive breast ; 

From thence to torments, not by tongues exprest, 

Returns; and (from his sinful self exil'd) 

Finds a glad Father, He a welcome, child : 

O then it lives ; O then it lives involv'd 

In secret raptures ; pants to be dissolv'd : 

The royal offspring of a second birth 

Sets ope' to Heav'n, and shuts the door to earth : 

If love-sick Jove commanded clouds should hap 
To rain such show'rs as quicken'd Danae's lap ; 

Or dogs, (far kinder than their purple master) 

Should lick his sores ; he laughs nor weeps the faster. 

If Earth (Heav'n's rival) dart her idle ray ; 

To Heav'n 'tis wax, and to the world 'tis clay : 

If Earth present delights, it scorns to draw, 

But, like the jet* unrubb'd disdains that straw : 

No hope deceives it, and no doubt divides it ; 

No grief disturbs it, and no error guides it ; 

No fear distracts it, and no rage inflames it ; 

No guilt condemns it, and no folly shames it ; 

No sloth besots it, and no lust inthrals it ; 

No scorn afflicts it, and no passion galls it : 



Jet j black amber, which, rubbed, has an attractive quality. 



100 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK II. 



It is a carknet-f of immortal life ; 

An ark of peace ; the lists J of sacred strife ; 

A purer piece of endless transitory ; 

A shrine of grace ; a little throne of glory ; 

A heav'n-born offspring of a new-born birth ; 

An earthly heav'n ; an ounce of heav'nly earth. 



f Carknet, a necklace. 

X Lists, a place enclosed for tournaments, races, wrestlings, and 
other exercises. 



BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 101 



S. August, de Spir. et Anima. 

O happy heart, where piety affecteth, where humi- 
lity subjecteth, where repentance correcteth, where 
obedience directeth, where preseverance perfecteth, 
where power protecteth, where devotion projecteth, 
where charity connecteth. 



S. Greg. 

Which way soever the heart turneth itself (if care- 
fully), it shall commonly observe, that in those very 
things we lose God, in those very things we shall 
find God : it shall find the heat of his power in con- 
sideration of those things, in the love of which things 
he was most cold ; and by what things it feel pervert- 
ed, by those things it is raised converted. 



Epig. 15. 

My heart ! but wherefore do I call thee so ? 
I have renounc'd my int'rest long ago : 
When thou wert false and fleshly, I was thine ; 
Mine wert thou never till thou wert not mine. 






BOOK THE THIRD. 



THE ENTERTAINMENT. 

All you whose better thoughts are newly born, 

And (rebaptiz'd with holy fire) can scorn 

The world's base trash, whose necks disdain to bear 

TV imperious yoke of Satan ; whose chaste ear 

No wanton songs of Sirens can surprise 

With false delight ; whose more than eagle-eyes 

Can view the glorious flames of gold, and gaze 

On glitt'ring beams of honour, and not daze ;* 

Whose souls can spurn at pleasure, and deny 

The loose suggestions of the flesh ; draw nigh : 

And you, whose am'rous, whose select desires 

Would feel the warmth of those transcendent fires, 

Which ( like the rising sun) put out the light 

Of Venus' star, and turn her day to night ; 

You that would love, and have your passions crown'd 

With greater happiness than can be found 

In your own wishes ; you, that would affect 

Where neither scorn, nor guile, nor disrespect 

Shall wound your tortur'd souls, that would enjoy, 

Where neither want can pinch, nor fulness cloy ; 

Nor double doubt afflicts, nor baser fear 

Unflames your courage in pursuit ; draw near : 



* Daze; «'. e. bedazzled. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 103 

Shake hands with* Earth, and let your soul respect 
Her joys no further than her joys reflect 
Upon her Maker's glory : if thou swim 
In wealth, see Him in all ; see all in Him : 
Sink'st thou in want, and is thy small cruise spent ? 
See Him in want ; enjoy Him in content : 
Conceiv'st Him lodg'd in cross, or lost in pain ? 
In prayer and patience find Him out again : 
Make Heav'n thy mistress, let no change remove 
Thy loyal heart; be fond, be sick of Love. 
What if he stop his ear, or knit his brow 1 
At length he '11 be as fond, as sick, as thou : 
Dart up thy soul in groans; thy secret groan 
Shall pierce his ear, shall pierce his ear alone : 
Dart up thy soul in vows ; thy sacred vow 
Shall find him out, where Heav'n alone shall know : 
Dart up thy soul in sighs ; thy whisp'ring sigh 
Shall rouse his ears, and fear no list'ner nigh : 
Send up thy groans, thy sighs, thy closet- vow ; 
There's none, there's none shall know but Heav'n and 

thou. 
Groans fresh'd with vows, and vows made salt with 

tears, 
Unscale his eyes, and scale his conquer'd ears : 
Shoot up the bosom shafts of thy desire, 
Feather'd with faith, and double-fork'd with fire, 
And they will hit : fear not, where Heav'n bids Gome; 
Heav'n's never deaf but when man's heart is dumb. 

* Shake hands with ; i. e. take leave of. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM I 



Isaiah xxvi. 9. 
My soul hath desired thee in the night. 

Good God ! what horrid darkness doth surround 

My groping soul ? how are my senses bound 

In utter shades, and, muffled from the light, 

Lurk in the bosom of eternal night ! 

The bold-fac'd lamp of Heav'n can set and rise, 

And with his morning glory fill the eyes 

Of gazing mortals ; his victorious ray 

Can chase the shadows, and restore the day : 

Night's bashfull empress, though she often wane, 

As oft repents her darkness ; primes again ; 

And with her circling horns doth re-embrace 

Her brother's wealth, and orbs her silver face. 

But ah ! my sun, deep swallow'd in his fall) 

Is set, and cannot shine, not rise at all : 

My bankrupt wane can beg nor borrow light ; 

Alas ! my darkness is perpetual night. 

Falls have their risings, wanings have their primes, 

And desp'rate sorrows wait their better times; 

Ebbs have their floods, and autumns have' their 

springs : 
All states have changes hurried with the swings 
Of chance and time, still tiding to and fro : 
Terrestrial bodies, and celestial too. 
How often have I vainly grop'd about, 
With lengthen'd arms, to find a passage out, 
That I might catch those beams mine eye desires, 
And bathe my soul in those celestial fires ! 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 105 



Like as the hagard,* cloister'd in her mew,-|- 

To scour her downy robes, and to renew 

Her broken flags, J preparing t' overlook 

The tim'rous mallard § at the sliding brook, 

Jets || oft from perch to perch ; from stocky to ground; 

From ground to window ; thus surveying round 

Her dove-befeather'd prison, till, at length, 

(Calling her noble birth to mind, and strength 

Whereto her wing was horn,) her ragged beak 

Nips off her dangling jesses,** strives to break 

Her jingling fetters, and begins to bateff 

At ev'ry glimpse, and darts at ev'ry grate : J J 

E'en so my Weary soul, that long has been 

An inmate in this tenement of sin, 

Lock'd up by cloud-brow'd error, which invites 

My cloister'd thoughts to feed on black delights, 

Now scorns her shadows, and begins to dart 

Her wing'd desires at Thee, that only art 

The sun she seeks, whose rising beams can fright 

These dusky clouds that make so dark a night : 

Shine forth, great Glory, shine ; that I may see 

Both how to loath myself and honour thee : 

But, if my weakness force thee to deny 

Thy flames, yet lend the twilight of thine eye : 

If I must want those beams. I wish, yet grant 

That I, at least, may wish those beams I want. 

* Hagard, a wild hawk. 

f Mew, a coop or cage. 

X Flags, wing-feathers. 

§ Mallard, a drake (water-fowl). 

|| Jets, hops, 

^ Stock, perch ; that on which a bird rests. 

** Jesses, leather thongs that tied on the bells. 

ft Bate, flutter her wings. 



106 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK III. 



S. August. Soliloqu. Cap. xxxiii. 

There was a great and dark cloud of vanity before 
mine eyes, so that I could not see the sun of justice 
and the light of truth. I, being the son of darkness, 
was involved in darkness : I loved my darkness, be- 
cause I knew not thy light : I was blind, and loved 
my blindness, and did walk from darkness to darkness : 
but, Lord, thou art my God, who hast led me from 
darkness and the shadow of death ; hast called me 
into his glorious light, and, behold, I see, 



Epig. 1. 



My soul, cheer up ; what if the night be long ? 
Heav'n finds an ear when sinners find a tongue. 
Thy tears are morning show'rs ; Heav'n bids me say, 
When Peter's cock begins to crow, 'tis day. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM II. 



Psalm lxix. 5. 



O Lord, thou knowest my foolishness, and my sins are 
not hid from thee. 



See'st thou this fulsome idiot ? In what measure 

He seems transported with the antic pleasure 

Of childish baubles ? Canst thou but admire 

The empty fulness of his vain desire ? 

Canst thou conceive such poor delights as these 

Can fill th' insatiate soul of man, or please 

The fond aspect of his deluded eye ? 

Reader, such very fools art thou and I : 

False puffs of honour; the deceitful streams 

Of wealth ; the idle, vain, and empty dreams 

Of pleasure, are our traffic, and ensnare 

Our souls, the threefold subject of our care : 

We toil for trash, we barter solid joys 

For airy trifles, sell our Heav'n for toys : 

We snatch at barley-grains, whilst pearls stand by 

Despis'd ; such very fools art thou and I. 

Aim'st thou at honour ? does not th' idiot shake it 

Jn his left hand ? Fond man, step forth and take it : 

Or would'st thou wealth ? See how the fool presents 

thee 
With a full basket, if such wealth contents thee : 



108 EMBLEMS. BuOK III. 



Would'st thou take pleasure ? If the fool unstride 

His prancing stallion, thou may'st up, and ride : 

Fond man, such is the pleasure, wealth and honour, 

That earth affords such fools as doat upon her ; 

Such is the game whereat earth's idiots fly ; 

Such idiots, ah ! such fools, art thou and I : 

Had rebel man's fool-hardiness extended 

No further than himself, and there had ended, 

It had been just; but, thus, enrag'd to fly 

Upon th' eternal eyes of Majesty, 

And drag the .Son of Glory from the breast 

Of his indulgent Father; to arrest 

His great and sacred person ; in disgrace 

To spit and spawl upon his sun-bright face ; 

To taunt him with base terms, and, being bound, 

To scourge his soft, his trembling sides ; to wound 

His head with thorns ; his heart with human fears ; 

His hands with nails, and his pale flank with spears ; 

And then to paddle in the purer stream 

Of his spilt blood, is more than most extreme : 

Great builder of mankind, canst thou propound 

All this to thy bright eyes, and not confound 

Thy handy-work ? O ! canst thou choose but see, 

That mad'st the eye ? can ought be hid from thee ? 

Thou seest not what thou may'st, but what thou wilt 

Thou seet our persons, Loed, and not our guilt; 

The hand that form'd us is enforc'd to be 

A screen set up betwixt thy work and thee : 

Look, look upon that hand, and thou shalt spy 

An open wound, a thoroughfare for thine eye ; 

Or if that wound be clos'd, that passage be 

Deny'd between thy gracious eyes and me, 

Yet view the scar ; that scar will countermand 

Thy wrath : O read my fortune in thy hand. 



BOOK III, 



EMBLEMS. 



109 



S. Chrys. Horn. iv. Joan. 



Fools seem to abound in wealth, when they want 
all things; they seem to enjoy happiness, when in- 
deed they are only most miserable ; neither do they 
understand that they are deluded by their fancy, till 
they be delivered from their folly. 



S. Greg, in Mo. 

By so much the more are we inwardly foolish, by 
how much we strive to seem outwardly wise. 



Epig. 2. 



Rebellious fool, what has thy folly done 1 
Controll'd thy God, and crucify'd his Son. 
How sweetly has the Lord of life deceiv'd thee ! 
Thou shedd'st his blood, and that shed blood has 
sav'd thee. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM III 



Psalm vi. 2. 

Have mercy. Lord, upon me, for I am weak ; O 
Lord, heal me, for my bones are vexed. 



SOUL. 



JESUS. 



Soul Ah ! Son of David, help. 

Jes. What sinful cry 

Implores the Son of David ? 

Soul. It is I. 

Jes. Who art thou ? 

Soul. Oh ! a deeply wounded breast 

That's heavy laden, and would fain have rest. 

Jes. I have no scraps, and dogs must not be fed, 
Like household children, with the children's bread. 

Soul. True, Lord ; yet tolerate hungry whelp 
To lick their crumbs : O, Son of David, help. 

Jes. Poor soul, what ail'st thou ? 

Soul. O I burn, I fry ; 

I cannot rest ; I know not where to fly, 
To find some ease ; I turn my blubber'd face 
From man to man ; 1 roll from place to place ; 
T'avoid my tortures, to obtain relief, 
But still am dogg'd and haunted with my grief : 
My midnight torments call the sluggish light, 
And, when the morning's come, they woo the night. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. Ill 



Jes. Surcease thy tears, and speak thy free desires. 

Soul. Quench, quench my flames, and 'suage these 
scorching fires. 

Jes. Canst thou believe my hand can cure thy 
grief ? 

Soul. Lord, I believe ; Lord ; help my unbelief. 

Jes. Hold forth thine arm, and let my fingers try 
Thy pulse : where, chiefly, doth thy torment lie I 

Soul. From head to foot ; it reigns in ev'ry part, 
But plays the self-law'd tyrant in my heart. 

Jes. Canst thou digest? canst relish wholesome 
food ? 
How stands thy taste ? 

Soul. To nothing that is good : 

All sinful trash, and earth's unsav'ry stuff, 
I can digest, and relish well enough. 

Jes. Is not thy blood as cold as hot, by turns ? 

Soul. Cold to what's good ; to what is bad it 
burns. 

Jes. How old 's thy grief? 

Soul. I took it at the Fall 

With eating fruit. 

Jes. 'Tis epidemical : 

Thy blood's infected, and the infection sprung 
From a bad liver ; 'tis a fever strong, 
And full of death, unless with present speed 
A vein be open'd: thou must die, or bleed. 

Soul. O I am faint and spent: that lance that shall 
Let forth my blood, lest forth my life withal : 
My soul wants cordials, and has greater need 
Of blood, than (being spent so far) to bleed : 
I faint already ; if I bleed I die. 

Jes. 'Tis either you must bleed, sick soul, or I: 
My blood's a cordial. He that sucks my veins 
Shall cleanse his own, and conquer greater pains 
Than these. Cheer up ; this precious blood of mine 
Shall cure thy grief; my heart shall bleed for thine. 
Believe, and view me with a faithful eye ; 
Thy soul shall neither languish, bleed, nor die. 



112 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 



S. August. Lib. x. Confess. 

Lord, be merciful unto me ! Ah me ! behold, I hide 
not my wounds : thou art a Physician, and I am sick ; 
thou art merciful, and I am miserable. 



St. Greg, in Pastoral. 

O wisdom, with how sweet an art doth thy wine 
and oil restore health to my healthless soul ! How 
powerfully merciful, how, mercifully powerful, art 
thou ! Powerful for me, merciful to me ! 






Epig, 3. 



Canst thou be sick, and such a Doctor by ? 
Thou canst not live, unless thy Doctor die : 
Strange kind of grief, that finds no med'cine good 
To 'suage her pains, but the Physician's blood 1 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM IV. 



Psalm xxv. 18. 

Look upon my affliction and my pain, and forgive all 
my sins. 

Both work and strokes ? both lash and labour too ? 
What more could Edom or proud Ashur do ? 
Stripes after stripes ; and blows succeeding blows ! 
Lord, has thy scourge no mercy, and my woes 
No end ? my pains no ease, no intermission ? 
Is this the state, is this the sad condition, 
Of those that trust thee 1 Will thy goodness please 
T allow no other favours — none but these ? 
Will not the rhet'ric of my torments move ? 
Are these the symptoms, these the signs, of love ? 
Is 't not enough, enough that I fulfil 
The toilsome task of thy laborious mill ? 
May not this labour expiate and purge 
My sin, without th' addition of thy scourge ? 
Look on my cloudy brow, how fast it rains 
Sad showr's of sweat, the fruits of fruitless pains : 
Behold these ridges ; see what purple furrows 
Thy plough has made : O think upon those sorrows, 
That once were thine ; wilt, wilt thou not be woo'd 
To mercy by the charms of sweat and blood ? 



114 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 

Canst thou forget that drowsy mount, wherein 
Thy dull disciples slept ? was not my sin 
There punish'd in thy soul ? did not this brow 
Then sweat in thine ? were not those drops enow ? 
Remember Golgotha, where that spring-tide 
O'erflow'd thy sov'reign sacramental side : 
There was no sin, there was no guile in thee, 
That call'd those pains : thou sweat'st, thou bledd'st 

for me. 
Was there not blood enough, when one small drop 
Had pow'r to ransom thousands worlds, and stop 
The mouth of Justice ? Lord, I bled before 
In thy deep wounds ; can Justice challenge more ? 
Or dost thou vainly labour to hedge in 
Thy losses from my sides ? My blood is thin, 
And thy free bounty scorns such easy thrift ; 
No, no, thy blood came not as loan, but gift. 
But must I ever grind ? and must I earn 
Nothing but stripes ? O wilt thou disaltern* 
The rest thou gav'st 1 Hast thou perus'd the curse 
Thou laid'st on Adam's fall, and made it worse ? 
Canst thou repent of mercy ? Heav'n thought good 
Lost man should feed in sweat, not work in blood : 
Why dost thou wound th' already wounded breast ? 
Ah me ! my life is but a pain at best ; 
I am but dying dust ; my days a span ; 
What pleasure tak'st thou in the blood of man ? 
Spare, spare thy scourge, and be not so austere ? 
Send fewer strokes, or lend more strength to bear. 

* Disaltern, set aside the alternate changes stripes and rcst f 
common to man. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 115 



S. Bern, in Horn, lxxxi in Cant. 



Miserable man ! who shall deliver me from the 
reproach of this shameful bondage ? I am a miserable 
man, but a free man : free, because a man ; miserable, 
because a servant : in regard of my bondage, miser- 
able ; in regard of my will, inexcusable : for my will, 
that was free, beslaved itself to sin, by assenting to 
sin : for he that committeth sin is the servant to sin. 



Epig, 4. 

Tax not thy God : thine own defaults did urge 
This two-fold punishment; the mill, the scourge. 
Thy sin 's the author of thy self-tormenting : 
Thou grind'st for sinning ; scourg'd for not repenting. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM V. 



Job. x. 9. 

Remember j I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as 
the clay ; and wilt thou bring me into dust again ? 



Thus from the bosom of the new-made earth 
Poor man was delv'd,* and had his unborn birth : 
The same the stuff; the self-same hand doth trim 
The plant that fades, the beast that dies, and him : 
One was their Sire, one was their common mother ; 
Plants are his sisters, and the beast his brother ; 
The elder too : beasts draw the self-same breath 
"Wax old alike, and die the self-same breath 
Plants grow as he, with fairer robes array 'd ; 
Alike they flourish, and alike they fade : 
The beast in sense exceeds him ; and in growth, 
The three-ag'd oak doth thrice exceed them both. 
Why look'st thou then so big, thou little span 
Of earth ? what art thou more in being man ? 
I,f but my great Creator did inspire 
My chosen earth with that diviner fire 
Of reason ; gave me judgment, and a will ; 
That to know good ; this, to choose good from ill : 
He put the reins of pow'r in my free hand, 
And jurisdiction over sea and land : 

* Delv'd dug. 
f J, Aye. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 117 



He gave me art to lengthen out my span 
Of life, and made me all in being man. 
I,* but that passion has committed treason 
Against the sacred person of thy reason : 
Thy judgment is corrupt ; perverse thy will ; 
That knows no good, and this makes choice of ill : 
The greater height sends down the deeper fall ; 
And good declin'd, turns bad, turns worst of all. 
Say then, proud inch of living earth, what can 
Thy greatness claim the more in being man ? 
O ! but my soul transcends the pitch of Nature, 
Borne up by th' image of her high Creator; 
Outbraves the life of Reason, and bears down 
Her waxen wings, kicks off her brazen crown. 
My earth's a living temple t' entertain 
The king of Glory, and his glorious train : 
How can I mend my title, then ? where can 
Ambition find a higher style than Man ? 
Ah ! but that image is defac'd and soil'd ; 
Her temple's raz'd, her altars all defil'd ; 
Her vessels are polluted, and distain'd 
With loathed lust ; her ornaments profan'd ; 
Her oil-forsaken lamps and hallo w'd tapers 
Put out ; her incense breathes unsav'ry vapours : 
Why swell'st thou then so big, thou little span 
Of earth 1 what art thou more in being man ? 
Eternal Potter, whose blest hands did lay 
My coarse foundation from a sod of clay, 
Thou know'st my slender vessel's apt to leak ; 
Thou know'st my brittle temper's prone to break : 
Are my bones Brazil, or my flesh of oak ? 
O, mend what thou hast made, what 1 have broke : 
Look, look with gentle eyes, and in thy day 
Of vengeance, Lord, remember I am clay. 



* I, Aye. 



118 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 



St. August. Soliloq. xxxii. 

Shall I ask, who made me ? It was thou that madest 
me, without whom nothing was made : Thou art 
my Maker, and I thy work. I thank thee, my Lord 
God, by whom I live, and by whom all things sub- 
sist, because thou madest me; I thank thee O my 
Potter, because thy hands have made me, because 
thy hands have formed me. 



Epig. 5. 

Why swell'st thou, man, puff'd up with fame and 

purse ? 
TV art better earth, but born to dig the worse : 
Thou cam'st from earth, to earth thou must return ; 
And art but earth, cast from the womb to th' urn. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM VI. 



Job vii. 20. 

/ have sinned ; what shall I do unto thee, O thou 
preserver of men ? why hast thou set me as a mark 
against thee ? 

Lord, I have done ; and, Lord, I have misdone ; 

'Tis folly to contest, to strive with one 

That is too strong ; 'tis folly to assail 

Or prove an arm, that will, that must, prevail. 

I *ve done, I 've done ; these trembling hands have 

thrown 
Their daring weapons down : the day's thine own : 
Forbear to strike where thou hast won the field ; 
The palm, the palm is thine : I yield, I yield. 
These treach'rous hands, that were so vainly bold 
To try a thriveless* combat, and to hold 
Self-wounding weapons up, are now extended 
For mercy from thy hand ; that knee that bended 
Upon her guardless guard,f doth now repent 
Upon this naked floor ; see, both are bent, 
And sue for pity : O, my ragged wound 
Is deep and desp'rate, it is drench'd and drown'd 
In blood and briny tears : it doth begin 
To stink without, and putrefy within. 
Let that victorious hand, that now appears 
Just in my blood, prove gracious to my tears : 

* Thriveless, unsuccessful, 
f A term in fencing. 



120 EMBLEMS. 



BOOK III. 



Thou great Preserver of presumptuous man, 

What shall I do 1 what satisfaction can 

Poor dust and ashes make ? O, if that blood, 

That yet remains unshed, where half as good 

As blood of oxen ; if my death might be 

An off ring to atone my God and me ; 

I would disdain injurious life, and stand 

A suitor, to be wounded from thy hand. 

But may thy wrongs be measur'd by the span 

Of life, or balanc'd with the blood of man ? 

No, no, eternal sin expects, for guerdon,* 

Eternal penance, or eternal pardon : 

Lay down thy weapons, turn thy wrath away, 

And pardon him that hath no price to pay : 

Enlarge that soul, which base presumption binds ; 

Thy justice cannot lose what mercy finds : 

thou, that wilt not bruise the broken reed, 

Rub not my sores, nor prick the wounds that bleed, 

Lord, if the peevish infant fights, and flies, 

With unpar'd weapons, at his mother's eyes, 

Her frowns (half-mix'd with smiles) may chance to 

show 
An angry love-trick on his arm, or so ; 
Where, if the babe but make a lip, and cry, 
Her heart begins to melt, and, by-and-by, 
She coakesf his dewy cheeks; her babe she blesses, 
And chokes her language with a thousand kisses. 

1 am that child : lo, here I prostrate lie, 
Pleading for mercy ; I repent, and cry 
For gracious pardon : let thy gentle ears 

Hear that in words, what mothers judge in tears: 
See not my frailties, Lord, but through my fear, 
And look on ev'ry trespass through a tear : 
Then calm thine anger, and appear more mild ; 
Remember thou 'rt a Father, I a child. 

* Guerdon, reward, 
f Ccakes, soothes. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 121 



S. Bern. Ser. xxi. in Cant, 

Miserable man! who shall deliver me from the 
reproach of this shameful bondage ? lama miserable 
man, but a free man : free because like to God ; 
miserable, because against God. O, Keeper of man- 
kind, why hast thou set me as a mark against thee ? 
Thou hast set me, because thou hast not hindered 
me : It is just that thy enemy should be my enemy, 
and that he who repugneth thee should repugn* me : I 
who am against thee, am against myself. 



Epig. 6. 



But form'd and fight ? but born, and then rebel ? 
How small a blast will make a bubble swell ! 
But dare the floor affront the hand that laid it ? 
So apt is dust to fly in *s face that made it. 



* Repugn, be against, or contrary to. 



M 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM VII. 



Job xiii. 24. 

Wherefore hidest thou thy face, and holdest me for 
thine enemy ? 



Why dost thou shade thy lovely face ? O 
Does that eclipsing hand so long deny 
The sunshine of thy soul-enliv'ning eye ? 



why 



Without that light, what light remains in me ? 
Thou art my Life, my Way, my Light ; in thee 
I live, I move, and by thy beams I see. 

Thou art my Life ; if thou but turn away, 

My life's a thousand deaths : thou art my Way ; 

Without thee, Lord, I travel not; but stray. 

My Light thou art ; without thy glorious sight, 
Mine eyes are darken'd with perpetual night : 
My God, thou art my Way, my Life, my Light. 

Thou art my Way ; I wander, if thou fly : 
Thou art my Light ; if hid, how blind am I ! 
Thou art my Life ; if thou withdraw, I die. 

Mine eyes are blind and dark, I cannot see ; 
To whom, or whither, should my darkness flee, 
But to the Light I and who's that Light but thee ? 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 123 



My path is lost, my wand'ring steps do stray ; 

I cannot safely go, nor safely stay : 

Whom should 1 seek but thee, my Path, my "Way ? 

O, I am dead : to whom shall I, poor I, 

Repair 1 To whom shall my sad ashes fly 

But Life ? And where is Life but in thine eye ? 

And yet thou turn'st away thy face, and fly'st me ; 
And yet I sue for grace, and thou deny'st me : 
Speak, art thou angry, Lord, or only try'st me 1 

Unscreen those heav'nly lamps, or tell me why 
Thou shad'st thy face : perhaps thou think'st no eye 
Can view those flames, and not drop down and die. 

If that be all, shine forth, and draw the nigher; 
Let me behold and die, for my desire 
Is, phoenix-like, to perish in that fire. 

Death- conquer' d Lazarus was redeem'd by thee : 
If I am dead, Lord, set Death's pris'ner free ; 
Am I more spent, or stink I worse than he ? 

If my puff 'd life be out, give leave to tine* 
My flameless snuff at that bright lamp of thine : 
O what's thy light the less for lighting mine ? 

If I have lost my path, great Shepherd, say, 
Shall I still wander in a doubtful way \ 
Lord, shall a lamb of Israel's sheepfold stray ? 

Thou art the pilgrim's path ; the blind man's eye ; 
The dead man's life : on thee my hopes rely : 
If thou remove, I err, I grope, I die. 

Disclose thy sunbeams, close thy wings, and stay ; 
See, see how I am blind, and dead, and stray, 
O thou that art my Light, my Life, my Way. 

* Tine, to light up. 



124 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 



St. August. Soliloq. Cap. i. 

Why dost thou hide thy face ? Haply thou wilt 
say, None can see thy face and live : Ah, Lord, let 
me die, that I may see thee ; let me see thee, that I 
may die : I would not live, but die : that I may 
see Christ, I desire death ; that I may live with 
Christ, I despise life. 



Anselm. Med. Cap. v. 

O excellent hiding, which is become my perfection! 
My God, thou hidest thy treasure, to kindle my de- 
sire ; thou hidest the pearl, to inflame the seeker ; 
thou delayest to give, that thou mayest teach me to 
importune; seemest not to hear, to make me per- 
severe. 



Epig. 7. 



If Heav'n's all-quick'ning eyes vouchsafe to shine 
Upon our souls, we slight ; if not, we whine : 
Our equinoctial hearts can never lie 
Secure beneath the tropics of that eye. 



END OF VOL. I. 



Printed, by John Nichols, Milton Press, Chandos Street, Strand. 



EMBLEMS. 



EMBLEMS, 

DIVINE AND MORAL, 

BY 

FRANCIS QUARLES. 
% Neto iEBttton, 1 

CAREFULLY REVISED AND CORRECTED, WITH THE 
ADDITION OF GLOSSAR1AL NOTES, 

BY THE REV. ROBERT WILSON, A. M. 



IN TWO VOLUMES. 



VOL. II. 



PUBLISHED BY JOHN BENNET, No. 4, THREE TUN 
PASSAGE, 25, 26, NEWGATE STREET. 



1839. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM VIII. 



Jer. ix. 1. 

Oh that my head were waters and mine eyes a foun- 
tain of tear S) that I might weep day and night. 

that mine eyes were springs, and could transform 
Their drops to seas, my sighs into a storm 

Of zeal, and sacred violence, wherein 

This lab'ring vessel, laden with her sin, 

Might suffer sudden shipwreck, and be split 

Upon that Rock, where my drench'd soul may sit, 

O'erwhelm'd with plenteous passion : O, and there 

Drop, drop into an everlasting tear ! 

Ah me ! that ev'ry sliding vein that wanders 

Through this vast isle, did work her wild meanders 

In brackish tears instead of blood, and swell 

This flesh with holy dropsies, from whose well, 

Made warm with sighs may fume my wasting breath, 

Whilst I dissolve in steams and reek* to death ! 

These narrow sluices of my dribbling eyes 

Are much too strait for those quick springs that rise, 

And hourly fill my temples to the top ; 

1 cannot shed for ev'ry sin a drop. 

* Reek, to wear away ; as, " His sickness, reeks, him." 
VOL. II. B 



2 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 

Great Builder of mankind, why hast thou sent 
Such swelling floods, and made so small a vent ? 
O that this flesh had been compos'd of snow, 
Instead of earth ; and bones of ice ; that so, 
Feeling the fervour of my sin, and loathing 
The fire I feel, I might be thaw'd to nothing ! 

thou that didst, with hopeful joy, entomb 
Me thrice three moons in thy laborious womb, 
And then, with joyful pain, brought'st forth a son, 
What, worth thy labour, has thy labour done ? 
What was there, ah ! what was there in my birth 
That could deserve the easiest smile of mirth ? 

A man was born : alas ! and what's a man ? 

A scuttle full of dust, a measur'd span 

Of flitting time ; a furnish'd pack,* whose wares 

Are sullen griefs, and soul-tormenting cares : 

A vale of tears ; a vessel tunn'd with breath, 

By sickness broach'd, to be drawn out by death : 

A hapless, helpless thing, that, born, does cry 

To feed; that feeds to live ; that lives to die. 

Great God and Man, whose eyes spent drops so often 

For me, that cannot weep enough, O soften 

These marble brains, and strike this flinty rock ; 

Or, if the music of thy Peter's cock 

Will more prevail, fill, fill my heark'ning ears 

With that sweet sound, that I may melt in tears : 

1 cannot weep until thou broach mine eye ; 
O give me went, or else I burst, and die. 

* Pack t a bundle or parcel of commodities packed up. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 



S. Ambros. in Psal. cxviii. 



He that commits sins to be wept for, cannot weep 
for sins committed ; and, being himself most lament- 
able, hath no tears to lament his offences. 



Nazianz. Orat. iii. 

Tears are the deluge of sin, and the world's 
sacrifice. 



S, Hierom. in Esaiam. 

Prayer appeases God, but a tear compels him 
that moves him, but this constrains him. 



Epig. 8. 



Earth is an island ported round with fears ; 
The way to Heav'n is through the sea of tears : 
It is a stormy passage, where is found 
The wreck of many a ship, but no man drown'd. 






BOOK III.— EMBLEM IX. 

■ 

Psalm xxviii. 5. 

The sorrows of hell compassed me about, and the 
snares of death prevented me. 

Is not this type well cut 1 in ev'ry part 

Full of rich cunning? fill'd with Zeuxian art ? 

Are not the hunters, and their Stygian hounds, 

Limn'd full to th' life 1 Didst ever hear the sounds, 

The music, and the lip-divided breaths, 

Of the strong-winded horn, recheats,* and deaths, 

Done more exact ? th' infernal Nimrod's halloo ? 

The lawless purlieus ?f and the game they follow ? 

The hidden engines ? and the snares that lie 

So undiscover'd, so obscure to th' eye ? 

The new-drawn net, and her entagled prey ? 

And him that closes it ? Beholder, say, 

Is 't not well done ? seems not an em'lous strife 

Betwixt the rare cut picture and the life ? 

These perlieu men are devils ; and the hounds 

fThose quick-nos'd cannibals that scour the grounds) 

Temptations ; and the game these fiends pursue 

Are human souls, which still they have in view ; 

Whose fury if they chance to 'scape by flying, 

The skilful hunter plants his net, close lying 

Recheats, (a hunting term,; when the horn blows to a retreat 
from a false scent. 

f Purlieus, forbidden ground. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 5 

On th' unsuspected earth, baited with treasure, 

Ambitious honour, and self-wasting pleasure ; 

Where, if the soul but stoop, Death stands prepar'd 

To draw the net, and, drawn, the soul's insnar'd. 

Poor soul ! how art thou hurried to and fro ! 

Where canst thou safely stay? where safely go? 

If stay; these hot-mouth'd hounds are apt to tear thee : 

If go : the snares enclose, the nets insnare thee : 

What good in this bad world has pow'r t' invite thee 

A willing guest 1 wherein can earth delight thee ? 

Her pleasures are but itch ; her wealth but cares ; 

A world of dangers, and a world of snares : 

The close pursuer's busy hands do plant 

Snares in thy substance ; snares attend thy want : 

Snares in thy credit ; snares in thy disgrace ; 

Snares in thy high estate ; snares in thy base ; 

Snares tuck thy bed ; and snares surround thy board; 

Snares watch thy thoughts ; and snares attach thy word ; 

Snares in thy quiet ; snares in thy commotion ; 

Snares in thy diet ; snares in thy devotion ; 

Snares lurk in thy resolves, snares in thy doubt ; 

Snares lie within thy heart, and snares without ; 

Snares are above thy head, and snares beneath ; 

Snares in thy sickness ; snares are in thy death, 

Oh] if these purlieus be so full of danger, 

Great God of hearts, the world's sole sov'reign Ranger, 

Preserve thy deer ; and let my soul be blest 

In thy safe forest, where I seek for rest ; 

Then let the hell-hounds roar, I fear no ill ; 

Rouse me they may, but have no pow'r to kill. 
VOL. II. c 



EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 



S. Ambros. Lib. iv. in Cap. iv. Lucce, 

The reward of honours, the height of power, the 
delicacy of diet, and the beauty of a harlot, are the 
snares of the devil. 



S. Ambros. de Bono Mortis. 

"Whilst thou seekest pleasures, thou runnest into 
snares ; for the eye of the harlot is the snare of the 
adulterer. 



Savanar. t , 

In eating, he sets before us gluttony ; in genera- 
tion, luxury; in labour, sluggishness; in conversing, 
envy; in governing, covetousness ; in correcting, 
anger ; in honour, pride ; in the heart he sets evil 
thoughts ; in the mouth, evil words ; in actions, evil 
works ; when awake, he moves us to evil actions ; 
when a sleep, to filthy dreams. 



Epig. 9. 



Be sad, my heart ! deep dangers wait thy mirth ; 
Thy soul's waylaid by sea, by hell, by earth : 
Hell has her hounds ; earth, snares ; the sea, a shelf; 
But, most of all, my heart beware thyself. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM X. 



Psalm cxliii. 2. 

Enter not into judgement with thy servant ; for in thy 
sight shall no man living be justified. 

JESUS. JUSTICE. SINNER. 

Jes. Bring forth the pris'ner, Justice. 

Just. Thy commands 

Are done, just Judge : see, here the pris'ner stands. 

Jes. What has the pris'ner done ? Say what's the 
cause 
Of his commitment ? 

Just. He hath broke the laws 

Of his too-gracious God ; conspir'd the death 
Of that great Majesty that gave him breath ; 
And heaps transgression, Lord, upon trangression. 

Jes. How know st thou this ? 

Just. E'en by his own confession : 

His sins are crying ; and they cry'd aloud : 
They cry'd to Heav'n ; they cry'd to Heav'n for 
blood. 

Jes. "What say'st thou, sinner? hast thou ought to 
plead 
That sentence should not pass ? Hold up thy head, 
And show thy brazen, thy rebellious face. 

Sin. Ah me ! I dare not : I 'm too vile and base 
To tread upon thy earth much more to lift 
Mine eyes to Heav'n : I need no other shrift* 
Than my own conscience : Lord, I must confess, 
I am no more than dust, and no whit less 

* Shrift, confession : an old word for auricular confession with 
Papists. 



EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 



Than my indictment styles me : ah ! if thou 
Search to severe, with too severe a brow, 
What flesh can stand ? I have transgress'd thy laws ; 
My merits plead thy vengeance ; not my cause. 

Just. Lord, shall I strike the blow ? 

Jes. Hold, Justice, stay : 

Sinner, speak on ; what hast thou more to say ? 

Sin. Vile as I am, and of myself abhor'd, 
I am thy handy-work, thy creature, Lord, 
Stamp'd with thy glorious image, and at first 
Most like to thee, though now a poor accurst 
Convicted caitiff, and degen'rous creature, 
Here trembling at thy bar. 

Just. Thy fault's the greater. 

Lord, shall I strike the blow ? 

Jes. Hold, Justice, stay : 

Speak, sinner ; hast thou nothing more to say ? 

Sin. Nothing but Mercy, mercy ! Lord, my state 
Is miserably poor and desperate ; 
I quite renounce myself, the world, and flee 
From Lord to Jesus, from thyself to thee. 

Just. Cease thy vain hopes ; my angry God has 
vow'd : 
Abused mercy must have blood for blood : 
Shall I yet strike the blow ? 

Jes. Stay, Justice, hold ; 

My bowels yearn, my fainting blood, grows cold, 
To view the trembling wretch ; methinks I spy 
My father's image in the pris'ner's eye. 

Just. I cannot hold. 

Jes. Then turn thy thirsty blade 

Into my sides ; let there the wound be made : 
Cheer up, dear soul ; redeem thy life with mine : 
My soul shall smart, my heart shall bleed for thine. 

Sin. O groundless* deeps ! O love beyond degree ! 
Th' offended dies to set th' offender free. 

* Groundless, without bottom. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 



S.August. 

Lord, if I have done that for which thou mayest 
damn me, thou hast not lost that whereby thou mayest 
save me : remember not sweet Jesus, thy justice 
against the sinner, but thy benignity towards thy 
creature : remember not to proceed against a guilty 
soul, but remember thy mercy towards a miserable 
wretch : forget the insolence of the provoker, and be- 
hold the misery of the invoker ; for what is Jesus 
but a Saviour 1 



Anselra. 

Have respect to what thy Son hath done for me, 
and forget what my sins have done against thee : my 
flesh hath provoked thee to vengeance ; let the flesh 
of Christ move thee to mercy : It is much that my 
rebellions have deserved ; but it is more that my 
Redeemer hath merited. 



Epig. 10. 



Mercy of mercies ! He that was my drudge 
Is now my Advocate, is now my Judge t 
He suffers, pleads, and sentences alone : 
Three I adore, and yet adore but One. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM XL 



Psalm lxix. 15. 

Let not the water-flood overflow me, neither let the deep 
swallow me up. 

The world's a sea : my flesh a ship that's mann'd 

With lab'ring thoughts, and steer'd by Reason's hand: 

My heart's the seaman's card,* whereby she sails ; 

My loose affections are the greater sails : 

The top-sail is my fancy ; and the gusts 

That fill these wanton sheets are worldly lusts : 

Fray'r is the cable, at whose end appears 

The anchor Hope, ne'er slipp'd but in our fears : 

My will' s th' unconstant pilot, that commands 

The stagg'ring keel ; my sins are like the sands : 

Repentance is the bucket ; and my eye 

The pump, unus'd (but in extremes) and dry : 

My conscience is the plummet, that doth press 

The deeps, but seldom cries, A fathom less : 

Smooth calm's security ; the gulf, despair ; 

iJL ^freight's corruption, and this life's my fare : 

My soul's the passenger, confus'dly driv'n 

From fear to fright ; her landing port is Heav'n. 

My seas are stormy, and my ship doth leak ; 

My sailors rude ; my steersman faint and weak : 

* Catd, sheet, cable; sea terms, all of them proper and beautiful. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 11 

My canvass torn, it flaps from side to side : 

My cable's crack'd ; my anchor's slightly ty'd : 

My pilot's craz'd ; my shipwreck sands are chok'd ; 

My bucket's broken, and my pump is chok'd ; 

My calm's deceitful, and my gulf too near ; 

My wares are slubber'd, and my fare's too dear : 

My plummet's light, it cannot sink nor sound ; 

Oh shall my rock-bethreaten'd soul be drown'd ? 

Lord, still the seas, and shield my ship from harm ; 

Instruct my sailors, guide my steersman's arm : 

Touch thou my compass, and renew my sails ; 

Send stiffer courage, or send milder gales : 

Make strong my cable, bind my anchor faster ; 

Direct my pilot, and be thou his master : 

Object the sands to my more serious view ; 

Make sound my bucket, bore my pump anew : 

New-cast my plummet, make it apt to try 

Where the rocks lurk, and where the quicksands lie ; 

Guard thou the gulf with love, my calms with care ; 

Cleanse thou my freight ; accept my slender fare ; 

Refresh the sea- sick passenger ; cut short 

His voyage ; land him in his wished port : 

Thou, thou whom winds and stormy seas obey, 

That through the deeps gav'st grumbling Isr'el way, 

Say to my soul, Be safe ; and then mine eye 

Shall scorn grim Death, although grim Death stand by. 

thou whose strength-reviving arm did cherish 
Thy sinking Peter, at the point to perish, 
Reach forth thy hand, or bid me tread the wave ; 

1 '11 come, I '11 come : the voice that calls will save. 



12 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 



S. Ambros. Apol. post, pro David. Cap. iii. 

The confluence of lusts make a great tempest, 
which in this sea disturbeth the seafaring soul, that 
reason cannot govern it. 



S. August. Soliloq. Cap. xxxv. 

We labour in a boisterous sea : thou standest upon 
the shore, and seest our dangers give us grace to 
hold a middle course between Scylla and Charybdis, 
that, both dangers escaped, we may arrive at our port 
secure. 



Epig, 11. 

My soul, the seas are rough, and thou a stranger 
In these false coasts ; O keep aloof; there's danger 
Cast forth thy plummet ; see, a rock appears ; 
Thy ship wants sea-room ; make it with thy tears. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM XII. 






Job xiv. 13. 

that thou wouldst hide me in the grave, that thou 
wouldest keep me in secret, until thy wrath be past. 

O whither shall I flee ? what path untrod 
Shall I seek out, to 'scape the flaming rod 
Of my offended, of my angry God 1 

Where shall I sojourn 1 what kind sea will hide 
My head from thunder ? where shall I abide, 
Until his flames be quench'd or laid aside ? 

What if my feet should take their hasty flight, 
And seek protection in the shades of night ? 
Alas ! no shades can blind the God of light. 

What if my soul should take the wings of day, 
And find some desert ? If she spring away, 
The wings of Vengeance clip* as fast as they. 

What if some solid rock should entertain 
My frighted soul 1 Can solid rocks restrain 
The stroke of Justice, and not cleave in twain ? 

Nor sea, nor shade, nor shield, nor rock, nor cave, 

Nor silent deserts, nor the sullen grave, 

Where flame-ey'd Fury means to smite, can save. 

* Clip, cut the air, or fly. 






14 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 



The seas will part, graves open, rocks will split ; 
The shield will cleave ; the freighted shadows flit ; 
Where Justice aims, her fiery darts must hit. 

No, no, if stern-brow'd Vengeance means to thunder, 
There is no place above, beneath nor under, 
So close, but will unlock, or rive in sunder. 

'Tis vain to flee ; 'tis neither here nor there 
Can 'scape that hand until that hand forbear ; 
Ah me ! where is he not, that's ev'ry where ? 

'Tis vain to flee ; till gentle Mercy show 

Her better eye, the farther off we go, 

The swing of Justice deals the mightier blow. 

Th' ingenuous child, corrected, doth not fly 
His angry mother's hand, but clings more nigh, 
And quenches with his tears her flaming eye. 

Shadows are faithless, and the rocks are false ; 
No trust in brass, no trust in marble walls ; 
Poor cots are e'en as safe as princes' halls. 

Great God ! there is no safety here below ; 

Thou art my fortress, though thou seem'st my foe ; 

'Tis thou, that strik'st the stroke, must guard the blow. 

Thou art my God, by thee I fall or stand ; 
Thy grace hath giv'n me courage to withstand 
All tortures but my conscience, and thy hand. 

I know thy justice is thyself; I know, 
Just God, thy very self is mercy too ; 
If not to thee, where, whither should I go ? 

Then work thy will ; if passion bid me flee, 
My reason shall obey ; my wings shall be 
Stretch'd out no further than from Thee to Thee. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 15 



S. August, in Psal. xxx. 

Whither fly I ? to what place can I safely fly ? 
to what mountain ? to what den ? to what strong 
house ? what castle shall I hold ? what walls shall 
hold me 1 whithersoever, I go, myself followeth me: 
for whatsoever thou fliest, O man, thou mayest, but 
thy own conscience : wheresoever, O Lord, I go, I 
find thee, if angry; a revenger ; if appeased, a Re- 
deemer : what way have I, but to fly from Thee to 
Thee ? That thou mayest avoid thy God, address thee 
to thy Lord. 





Epig. 12. 



Hath Vengeance found thee ? can thy fears command 
No rocks to shield thee from her thund'ring hand ? 
Know'st thou not where to 'scape ? I '11 tell thee 

where : 
My soul, make clean thy conscience ; hide thee there. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM XIII . 



Job. x. 20. 



Are not my days, few ? cease then, and let me alone, 
that I may take comfort a little. 



My glass is half unspent ; forbear t' arrest 
My thriftless day too soon : my poor request 
Is that my glass may run but out the rest. 

My time-devoured minutes will be done 
Without thy help ; see, see how swift they run : 
Cut not my thread before my thread be spun. 

The gain's not great I purchase by this stay ; 
What loss sustain'st thou by so small delay, 
To whom ten thousand years are but a day ? 

My following eye can hardly make a shift 
To count my winged hours ; they fly so swift, 
They scarce deserve the bounteous name of gift. 

The secret wheels of hurrying Time to give 
So short a warning, and so fast they drive, 
That I am dead before I seem to live. 

And what's a life ? A weary pilgrimage, 
Whose glory, in one day, doth fill the stage 
With childhood, manhood, and decrepid sge. 



BOOK HI. EMBLEMS. 17 

And what 's a life 1 The flourishing array 
Of the proud summer-meadow, which to-day 
Wears her green plush, and is, to-morrow, hay. 

And what's a life ? A blast sustain'd with clothing, 
Maintain'd with food, retain'd with vile self-loathing, 
Then weary of itself, again'd to nothing. 

Read, on this dial, how the shades devour 
My short-liv'd winter's day ; hour eats up hour ; 
Alas ! the total's but from eight to four. 

Behold these lilies, (which thy hands have made 

Fair copies of my lite, and open laid 

To view,) how soon they droop, how soon they fade ! 

Shade not that dial night will blind too soon ; 
My non-ag'd day already points to noon : 
How simple is my suit ! how small my boon ! 

Nor do I beg this slender inch, to while 

The time away, or falsely to beguile 

My thoughts with joy ; here's nothing worth a smile. 

No, no : 'tis not to please my wanton ears 
With frantic mirth ; I beg but hours, not years 
And what thou giv'st me I will give to tears. 

Draw not that soul which would be rather led ; 
That seed has yet not broke my serpent's head ; 

shall I die before my sins are dead ? 

Behold these rags ; am I a. fitting guest 

To taste the dainties of thy royal feast, 

With hands and face unwash'd, ungirt, unblest ? 

First, let the Jordan streams (that find supplies 

From the deep fountain of my heart) arise, 

And cleanse my spots, and clear my lep'rous eyes, 

1 have a world of sins to be lamented ; 

I have a sea of tears that must be vented : 
O spare till then ; and then I die contented. 

VOL. II. D 



18 EMBLEMS, BOOK III 



S. August. Lib. vii. de Civit. Dei. Cap. x. 

The time wherein we live is taken from the space 
of our life ; and what remaineth is daily made less and 
less, insomuch that the time of our life is nothing but 
a passage to death. 



S. Greg. Lib. ix. Mor. Cap. xliv. in Cap. x. Job. 

As moderate afflictions bring tears, so immoderate 
take away tears ; insomuch that sorrow, becometh no 
sorrow, which, swallowing up the mind of the afflict- 
ed, taketh away the sense of the affliction. 



Epig. 13. 



Fear'st thou to go when such an arm invites thee : 
Dread'st thou thy loads of sin ? or what affrights 

thee % 
If thou begin to fear, thy fear begins : 
Fool, can he bear thee hence, and not thy sins ? 



*l 



BOOK IIL— EMBLEM XIV. 



Deut. xxxii. 29. 

that they were wise, that they understood this, that 
they would consider their latter end / 

FLESH. SPIRIT. 

FL What means my sister's eyes so oft to pass 
Through the long entry of that optic glass ? 
Tell me ; what secret virtue doth invite 
Thy wrinkled eye to such unknown delight ? 

Sp. It helps the sight, makes things remote appear 
In perfect view ; it draws the object near. 

FL What sense-delighting objects dost thou spy % 
What doth that glass present before thine eye ? 

Sp. I see thy foe, my reconciled friend, 
Grim Death, e'en standing at the glass's end : 
His left hand holds a branch of palm ; his right 
Holds forth a two-edg'd sword. 

FL A proper sight! 
And is this all ? doth thy prospective please 
Th' abused fancy with no shapes but these ? 

Sp. Yes, I behold the darken'd sun bereav'n 
Of all his light ; the battlements of Heav'n 
Swelt'ring in flames ; the- angel-guarded Son 
Of glory on his high tribunal throne : 

1 sea a brimstone sea of boiling fire, 

And fiends, with knotted whips of flaming wire. 



20 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 



Tort'ring poor souls, that gnash their teeth in vain, 
And gnaw their flame-tormented tongues for pain. 
Look, sister, how the *queasy-stomach'd graves 
Vomit their dead, and how the purple waves 
Scald their consumeless bodies, strongly cursing 
All wombs for bearing, and all paps for nursing. 

Fl. Can thy distemper'd fancy take delight 
In view of tortures ? these are shows t' affright : 
Look in this glass triangular ; look here ; 
Here's that will ravish eyes. 

Sp. What seest thou there ? 

FL The world in colours; colours that disdain 
The cheeks of Proteus, or the silken train 
Of Flora's nymphs ; such various sorts of hue 
As sun-confronting Iris never knew : 
Here, if thou please to beautify a town, 
Thou may'st ; or, with a hand, turn't upside down : 
Here may'st thou scant or widen by the measure 
Of thine own will ; make short or long at pleasure : 
Here may'st thou tire thy fancy, and advise 
With shows more apt to please more curious eyes. 

Sp. Ah fool ! that dot'st on vain, on present toys, 
And disrespect' st those true, those future joys ! 
How strongly are thy thoughts befool'd, alas ! 
To doat on goods that perish with thy glass ! 
Nay, vanish with the turning of a hand ! 
Were they but painted colours, it might stand 
With painted reason that they might devote thee ; 
But things that have no being to besot thee ! 
Foresight of future torment is the way 
To balk those ills which present joys bewray. 
As thou hast fool'd thyself, so now come hither ; 
Break that fond glass, and let 's be wise together. 



* Queasy, sick at stomach, apt to vomit. 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 21 



S. JBonavent. de Contemptu Sceculi. 



O that men would be wise, and understand, and 
foresee. Be wise, to know three things : the multi- 
tude of those that are to be damned ; the few number 
of those that are to be saved ; and the vanity of tran- 
sitory, things : understand three things ; the multi- 
tude of sins, the omission of good things, and the loss 
of time : foresee three things ; the danger of death, 
the last judgment, and eternal punishment. 



Epig, 14. 



What, soul, no further yet ? what, ne'er commence 
Master* in faith ? still Bachelor of Sense ? 
Is 't insufficiency 1 or what has made thee 
O'erslip thy lost degree ? Thy lusts have staid thee. 



* Master, Bachelor, degree', titles and terms used in Universities. 



BOOK III.— EMBLEM XV. 

Psalm xxxi. 10. 
My life is spent with grief, and my years with sighing, 

What sullen star rul'd my untimely birth, 
That would not lend my days one hour of mirth ? 
How oft have these bare knees been bent, to gain 
The slender alms of one poor smile, in vain ! 
How often, tir'd with the fastidious light, 
Have my faint lips implor'd the shades of night ! 
How often have my nightly torments pray'd 
For ling' ring twilight, glutted with the shade ! 
Day worse than night, night worse than day, appears 
In fears I spend my nights, my days in tears : 
I moan unpitied, groan without relief; 
There is nor end nor measure of my grief. 
The smiling flow'r salutes the day ; it grows 
Untouch'd with care ; it neither spins nor sows : 
O that my tedious life were, like this flow'r, 
Or freed from grief, or finish'd with an hour ! 
Why was I born ? why was I born a man ? 
And why proportion'd by so large a span ? 
Or why suspended from the common lot, 
And, being born to die, why die I not ? 



BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 23 



Ah me ! why is my sorrow-wasted breath 

Denied the easy privilege of death ? 

The branded slave, that tugs the weary oar, 

Obtains the sabbath of a welcome shore : 

His ransom'd stripes are heal'd ; his native soil 

Sweetens the mem'ry of his foreign toil : 

But ah ! my sorrows are not half so blest ; 

My labour finds no point, my pains no rest : 

I barter sighs for tears, and tears for groans, 

Still vainly rolling Sisyphsean stones. 

Thou just observer of our flying hours, 

That, with thy adamantine fangs, devours 

The brazen mon'ments of renowned kings, 

Doth thy glass stand ? or be thy moulting wings 

Unapt to fly ? if not, why dost thou spare 

A willing breast ; a breast that stands so fair ; 

A dying breast, that hath but only breath 

To beg a wound, and strength to crave a death ; 

O that the pleased Heav'ns would once dissolve 

These fleshly fetters, that so fast involve 

My hamper'd soul ! then should my soul be blest 

From all these ills, and wrap her thoughts in rest : 

Till then my days are months, my months are years ; 

My years are ages, to be spent in tears : 

My grief 's entail'd upon my wasteful breath 

Which no recov'ry can cut off, but death. 

Breath drown in cottages, puff'd out in thrones, 

Begins, continues, and concludes, in groans. 



24 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK III. 



Innocent de Vilitate Condit. Humance. 

O who will give mine eyes a fountain of tears, that 
I may bewail the miserable ingress of man's condi- 
tion ; the sinful progress in man's conversation ; the 
damnable egress in man's dissolution ? I will consider 
with tears, whereof man was made, what man doth, and 
and what man is to do Alas ! he is formed of earth, 
conceived in sin, born to punishment : he doth evil 
things, which are not lawful ; he doth filthy things, 
which are not decent ; he doth vain things, which are 
not expedient. 



Epigy 15. 



My heart, thy life's a debt by bound, which bears 
A secret date ; the use* is groans and tears : 
Plead not ; usurious Nature will have all, 
As well the int'rest a3 the principal. 



* Use, interest. 



BOOK THE FOURTH 



EMBLEM I. 



Rom. vii. 23. 

I see another law in my members, warring against the 
law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to 
the law of sin. 



How my wili is hurried to and fro, 

And how my unresolv'd resolves do vary ! 

1 know not where to fix ; sometimes I go 

This way, then that, and then the quite contrary : 

I like, dislike ; lament for what I could not : 

I do, undo ; yet still do what I should not ; 

And, at the self same instant, will the thing I would 

not. 



Thus are my weather-beaten thoughts opprest 

With th' earth-bred winds of my prodigious will; 
Thus am I hourly tost from east to west 
Upon the rolling streams of good and ill : 
Thus am T driv'n upon these slipp'ry suds, 
From real ills to false apparent goods ; 
My life 's a troubled sea, compos'd of ebbs and floods. 



26 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK IV. 



The curious penman, having trimm'd his page 

With the dead language of his dabbled quill, 
Lets fall a heedless drop ; then, in a rage, 
Cashiers the fruits of his unlucky skill : 
E'en so my pregnant soul in th' infant bud 
Of her best thoughts show'rs down a coal-black 
flood 
Of unadvised ills, and cancels all her good. 

Sometimes a sudden flash of sacred heat 

Warms my chill soul, and sets my thoughts in frame ; 
But soon that fire is shoulder'd from her seat 
By lustful Cupid's much inferior flame. 
I feel two flames, and yet no flame entire ; 
Thus are the mongrel thoughts of mixt desire 
Consum'd between that heav'nly and this earthly fire. 

Sometimes my trash-disdaining thoughts outpass 

The common period of terrene* conceit ; 
O then methinks I scorn the thing I was, 
Whilst I stand ravish'd at my new estate : 
But when th' Icarian wings of my desire 
Feel but the warmth of their own native fire, 

then they melt and plunge within their wonted mire. 

1 know the nature of my wav'ring mind ; 

I know the frailty of my fleshly will : 
My passion's eagle-ey'd; my judgment blind ; 
I know what's good, but yet make choice of ill. 
When th' ostrich wings of my desire shall be 
So dull, they cannot mount the least degree, 
Yet grant my soul desire but of desiring Thee. 



* Terrene, earthly. 



BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 27 



S. Bern. Med. ix. 

My heart is a vain heart, a vagabond and instable 
heart ; while it is led by its own judgment, and, 
wanting divine counsel, cannot subsist in itself; and 
whilst it divers ways seeketh rest, findeth none, but 
remaineth miserable through labour and void of peace: 
it agreeth not with itself, it dissenteth from itself: it 
altereth resolutions, changeth the judgment, frameth 
new thoughts, pulleth down the old, and buildeth 
them up again : it willeth and willeth not, and never 
remaineth in the same state. 



S. August de Verb. Apost. 

When it would, it cannot ; because, when it might, 
it would not : therefore by an evil will man lost his 
good power. 



Epig. I. 



My soul, how are thy thoughts disturb'd, confin'd, 
Enlarg'd betwixt thy members and thy mind ! 
Fix here or there ; thy doubt-depending cause 
Can ne'er except one verdict 'twixt two laws. 



BOOK IV.— EMBLEM II . 



Psalm cxix. 5. 
O that my ways were directed to keep thy statutes ! 

Thus I, the object of the world's disdain, 

With pilgrim pace, surround the weary earth : 

I only relish what the world counts vain ; 

Her mirth's my grief ; her sullen grief my mirth ; 
Her light my darkness ; and her truth my error; 

Her freedom is my gaol ; and her delight my terror. 

Fond earth ! proportion not my seeming love 

To my long stay; let not thy thoughts deceive 
thee; 
Thou art my prison, and my home's above ; 
My life's a preparation but to leave thee : 

Like one that seeks a door I walk about thee : 
With thee I cannot live ; I cannot live without thee. 

The world's a lab'rinth, whose anfractuous* ways 
Are all compos'd of rubs and crook'd meanders : 
No resting here ; he 's hurried back that stays 
A thought ; and he that goes unguided, wanders : 
Her way is dark ; her path untrod, unev'n ; 
So hard's the way from earth ; so hard's the way to 
Heav'n. 

* Anfractuous, intricate. 



BOOK IV BMBLEMS. 29 



This gyring* lab'rinth is betrencb d about 

On either hand with streams of sulph'rous fire, 

Streams closely sliding, erring in and out, 
But seeming pleasant to the fond descrier ; 

Where, if his footsteps trust their own invention, 

He falls without redress, and sinks beyond dimension. 

Where shall I seek a guide ? where shall I meet 
Some lucky hand to lead my trembling paces ? 

What trusty lantern will direct my feet 

To 'scape the danger of these dang'rous places ? 
What hopes have I to pass without a guide 

Where one gets safely through, a thousand fall beside. 

An unrequested star did gently slide 

Before the wise men to a greater light : 
Backsliding Isr'el found a double guide ; 
A pillar, and a cloud ; by day by night: 
Yet in my desp'rate dangers, which be far 
More great than theirs, I have nor pillar, cloud, nor 
star. 

O that the pinions of a cliping* dove 

Would cut my passage through the empty air ; 
Mine eyes being seal'd, how would I mount above 
The reach of danger and forgotten care ! 

My backward eyes should ne'er commit that 
fault, 
Whose lasting guilt should build a monument of salt. 

Great God, that art the flowing spring of light, 
Enrich mine eyes with thy refulgent ray ! 

Thou art my path ; direct my steps aright ; 
I have no other light, no other way : 

I'll trust my God, and him alone pursue; 

His law shall be my path, his heav'nly light my clue^ 

* Gyring, full of turnings. 
* Clipping, swift, flying. 

Vol. ii. e 



30 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK IV. 



& August. Soliloq. Cap. iv. 

O Lord, who art the Light, the Way, the Truth, 
the Life ; in whom there is no darkness, error, vanity, 
nor death : the Light, without which there is dark- 
ness ; the Way, without which there is wandering ; 
the Truth, without which there is error; the Life, 
without which there is death : say, Lord, ' Let there 
be light,' and I shall see light, and eschew darkness ; 
I shall see the way and avoid wandering; I 
shall see the truth, and shun error; I shall see life, 
and escape death : illuminate, O illuminate my blind 
soul, which sitteth in darkness and the shadow of 
death ; and direct my feet in the way of peace. 



Epig. 2. 



Pilgrim, trudge on : what makes thy soul complain, 
Crowns thy complaint ; the way to rest is pain : 
The road to resolution lies by doubt ; 
The next way home's the farthest way about. 



BOOK IV.— EMBLEM III. 



Psalm xvii. 5. 



Holdup my goings in thy paths, that my footsteps slip 
not. 



Whene'er the Old Exchange of profit rings 

Her silver saints-bell of uncertain gains, 
My merchant soul can stretch both legs and wings : 
How I can run, and take unwearied pains ! 
The charms of profit are so strong, that I, 
Who wanted legs to go, find wings to fly. 



If time-beguiling Pleasure but advance 

Her lustful trump, and blow her bold alarms, 
O how my sportful soul can frisk and dance, 
And hug that siren in her twined arms ! 
The sprightly voice of sinew-strength'ning 

Pleasure 
Can lend my bed-rid soul both legs and leisure, 



32 EMBLEMS. 



BOOK IY. 



If blazing Honour chance to fill my veins 

With flatt'ring warmth, and flash of courtly fire, 
My soul can take a pleasure in her pains ; 
My lofty strutting steps disdain to tire : 
My antic knees can turn upon the hinges 
Of compliment, and screw a thousand cringes. 



But when I come to thee, my God, that art 
The royal mine of everlasting treasure, 
The real honour of my better part, 

And living fountain of eternal pleasure, 

How nerveless are my limbs ! how far and slow ! 
I have nor wings to fly, nor legs to go. 



So when the streams of swift-foot Rhine convey 

Her upland riches to the Belgic shore, 
The idle vessel slides the wat'ry lay, 

Without the blast or tug of wind or oar : 
Her slip'ry keel divides the silver foam 
With ease ; so facile is the way from home ! 



But when the home-bound vessel turns her sails 

Against the breast of the resisting stream, 
O then she slugs ; nor sail nor oar prevails ; 
The stream is sturdy, and her tide's extreme : 
Each stroke is loss, and ev'ry tug is vain; 
A boat-length's purchase is a league of pain. 



Great All in All, that art my rest my home, 

My way is tedious, and my steps are slow : 
Reach forth thy helpful hand, or bid me come ; 
I am thy child, O teach thy child to go : 
Conjoin thy sweet commands to my desire, 
And I will venture, though I fall or tire. 



ROOK IV. EMBLEMS. 33 



S. August Ser. xv. de Verb. Apost. 



Be always displeased at what thou art, if thou de- 
sirest to attain to what thou are not : for where thou 
hast pleased thyself, there thou abidest. But if thou 
sayest, I have enough, thou perishest, always add, 
always walk, always proceed ; neither stand still, nor 
go back, nor deviate ; he that standeth still proceedeth 
not ; he goeth back that continueth not ; he deviateth 
that revolteth ; he goeth better that creepeth in his 
way than he that runneth out of his way. 



Epig. 3. 



Fear not, my soul, to lose for want of cunning ; 
Weep not ; Heav'n's is not always got by running : 
Thy thoughts are swift, although thy legs be slow ; 
True love will creep, not having strength to go. 



BOOK IV.— EMBLEM IV. 



Psalm cxix. 120. 

My flesh trembleth for fear of thee ; and I am afraid 
of thy judgments. 



Let others boast of luck, and go their ways 

With their fair game ; know, Vengeance seldom plays 

To be too forward, but doth wisely frame 

Her backward tables for an after-game : 

She gives the leave to venture many a blot ;* 

And for her own advantage, hits thee not : 

But when her pointed tables are made fair, 

That she be ready for thee, then beware ; 

Then, if a necessary blot be set, 

She hits thee ; wins the game ; perchance the set : 

If prosp'rous chances make thy casting high, 

Be wisely temp'rate ; cast-a serioui eye 

On after-dangers, and keep back thy game ; 

Too forward seed-times make thy harvest lame. 

If left hand fortune give thee left-hand chances, 

Be wisely patient ; let no envious glances 

Repine to view thy gamester's heap so fair ; 

The hindmost hound takes oft the doubling hare. 



* Blot, a term at backgammon. 



BOOK IV. 



EMBLEMS. 25 



The world's great dice are false ; sometimes they go 

Extremely high, sometimes extremely low : 

Of all her gamesters, he that plays the least N 

Lives most at ease, plays most secure, and best : 

The way to win is to play fair, and swear 

Thyself a servant to the crown of fear : 

Fear is the Primer* of a gamester's skill ; 

Who fears not bad, stands most unarm'd to ill. 

The ill that 's wisely fear'd is half withstood ; 

And fear of bad is the best foil to good. 

True fear's th' elixir which in days of old, 

Turn'd leaden crosses into crowns of gold : 

The world's the tables ; stakes, eternal life ; 

The gamester's Heav'n and I ; unequal strife ! 

My fortunes are my dice, whereby I frame 

My indisposed life : this life's the game ; 

My sins are several blots ; the lookers-on 

Are angels ; and in death the game is done. 

Lord, I 'm a bungler, and my game doth grow 

Still more and mere unshap'd ; my dice run low : 

The stakes are great; my careless blots are many ; 

And yet thou passest by, and hitt'st not any : 

Thou art too strong ; and I have none to guide me 

With the least jog; the lookers-on deride me : 

It is a conquest undeserving Thee, 

To win a stake from such a worm as me : 

I have no more to lose ; if we persever,f 

'Tis lost ; and, that once lost, I 'm lost for ever. 

Lord, wink at faults, and be not too severe, 

And I will play my game with greater fear. 

O give me Fear, ere Fear has past her date : 

Whose blot being hit, then fears ; fear's then too late. 



* Primer, the first book for children, 
f Persever, put, by poetic license, for persevere. 



36 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV" 



S. Bern. Ser. liv. in Cant. 



There is nothing so effectual to obtain grace, to 
retain grace, and to regain grace, as always to be found 
before God not over wise, but to fear : happy art 
thou if thy heart replenished with three fears ; a fear 
for received grace, a greater fear for lost grace, a 
greater fear to recover grace. 



S. August, super Psalm. 

Present fear begetteth eternal security : fear God, 
which is above all, and no need to fear man at all. 



Epig. 4. 



Lord, shall we grumble when thy flames do scourge 

us ? 
Our sins breathe fire ; that fire returns to purge us. 
Lord, what an alchymist art thou, whose skill 
Transmutes to perfect good from perfect ill ! 



BOOK IV.— EMBLEM V. 



Psalm cxix. 37. 
Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity. 



How like to threads of flax, 
That touch the flame, are my inflam'd desires ! 

How like to yielding wax 
My soul dissolves before these wanton fires ! 
The fire but touch'd, the flame but felt, 
Like flax, I burn ; like wax, I melt. 



O how this flesh doth draw 
My fetter'd soul to that deceitful fire ! 

And how th' eternal law 
Is baffled by the law of my desire ! 
How truly bad, how seeming good, 
Are all the laws of flesh and blood ! 



O wretched state of men, 
The height of whose ambition is to borrow 

What must be paid again, 
With griping inter' st of the next day's sorrow ! 
How wild his thoughts ! how apt to range ! 
How apt to vary ! apt to change ! 



33 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 



How intricate and nice 
Is man's perplexed way to man's desire ! 

Sometimes upon the ice 
He slips, and sometimes falls into the fire ; 
His progress is extreme and bold, 
Or very hot, or very cold. 



The common food he doth 
Sustain his soul-tormenting thoughts withal, 

Is honey in his mouth 
To-night ; and in his heart, to-morrow, gall 
'Tis oftentimes, within an hour, 
Both very sweet and very sour. 



If sweet Corinna smile, 
A heav'n of joy breaks down into his heart : 

Corinna frowns awhile ? 
Hell's torments are but copies of his smart : 
Within a lustful heart doth dwell 
A seeming Heav'n, a very hell. 



Thus worthless, vain, and void 
Of comfort, are the fruits of earth's employment, 

Which, ere they be enjoy'd, 
Distract us, and destroy us in th' enjoyment! 
These be the pleasures that are priz'd, 
When Heaven's cheap penn'worth stands despis'd. 



Lord, quench these hasty flashes, 
Which dart as lightning from the thund'ring skies, 

And ev'ry minute dashes 
Against the wanton windows of mine eyes ! 
Lord, close the casement, whilst I stand 
Behind the curtain of thy hand ! 



BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 39 



S. August. Soliloq. Cap, iv. 

O thou Son, that illuminateth both heaven and 
earth ! woe be unto those eyes which do not behold 
thee : woe be unto those blind eyes which cannot be- 
hold thee : woe be unto those which turn away their 
eyes that they will not behold thee : woe be unto those 
that turn not away their eyes that they may behold 
vanity. 

S. Ch*ys. Sup. Mat. xix. 

What is the evil woman but the enemy of friend- 
ship, an unavoidable pain, a necessary mischief, a 
natural temptation, a desirable calamity, a domestic 
danger, a delectable inconvenience, and the nature of 
evil painted over with the colour of good ? 



Epig. 5. 



'Tis vain, great God, to close mine eyes from ill, 
When I resolve to keep the old man still : 
My rambling heart must cov'nant first with Thee, 
Or none can pass betwixt mine eye and me. 



BOOK IV. EMBLEM VI. 



Esther vii. 3. 

If I have found favour in thy sight, and it if please the 
king, let my life be given me at my petition. 



Thou art the great Assureus, whose commmand 

Doth stretch from pole to pole ; the world's thy land : 

Rebellious Vashti's the corrupted will, 

Which, being call'd, refuseth to fulfil 

Thy just command: Esther, whose tears condole 

The razed city, 's the regen'rate soul ; 

A captive maid, whom thou wilt please to grace 

With nuptial honours in stout Vashti's place: 

Her kinsman, whose unbended knee did thwart 

Proud Haman's glory, is the fleshly part : 

The sober Eunuch, that recall'd to mind 

The new-built gibbet (Haman had divin'd 

For his own ruin), fifty cubits high, 

Is lustful thought controlling Chastity : 

Insulting Haman is that fleshly lust, 

Whose red-hot fury, for a season, must 

Triumph in pride, and study how to tread 

On Mordecai, till royal Esther plead. 






BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 41 

Great king, thy sent-for Vashti will not come ; 
O let the oil o' th' bless'd Virgin's womb 
Cleanse my poor Esther ; look, O look upon her 
With gracious eyes ; and let thy beams of honour 
So scour her captive stains, that she may prove 
A holy object of thy heav'nly love : 
Anoint her with the spikenard of thy graces, 
Then try the sweetness of her chaste embraces : 
Make her the partner of thy nuptial bed, 
And set thy royal crown upon her head : 
If then ambitious Haman chance to spend 
His spleen on Mordecai, that scorns to bend 
The wilful stiffness of his stubborn knee, 
Or basely crouch to any lord but thee ; 
If weeping Esther should prefer a groan 
Before the high tribunal of thy throne, 
Hold forth thy golden sceptre, and afford 
The gentle audience of a gracious lord ; 
And let thy royal Esther be possest 
Of half thy kingdom, at her dear request : - 
Curb lustful Haman, him that would disgrace, 
Nay, ravish, thy fair queen before thy face : 
And, as proud Haman was himself insnar'd 
On that self gibbet that himself prepar'd, 
So nail my lust, both punishment and guilt, 
On that dear cross that mine own lusts have built. 



VOL. II. 



42 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 



S. August, in Ep„ 

O holy Spirit, always inspire me with holy works. 
Constrain me, that I may do; counsel me, that I 
may love thee ; confirm me that I may hold thee ; 
conserve me, that I may not lose thee. 

S. August. Sup. Joan. 

The spirit rusteth where the flesh resteth : for, as 
the flesh is nourished with sweet things, the spirit is 
refreshed with sour. 

Ibidem. 

"Wouldest thou that thy flesh obey thy spirit ? then 
let thy spirit obey thy God. Thou must be govern- 
ed, that thou mayest govern. 

Epig. 6. 

Of mere' and justice is thy kingdom built ; 

This plagues my sin, and that removes my guilt : 

"Whene'er I sue, Assuerus- like, decline* 

Thy sceptre ; Lord, say, Half my kingdom's thine. 

Decline, as here used, signifies to bow down. 



BOOK IV.— EMBLEM VII. 



Canticles vii. 11. 

Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let 
us lodge in the villages, 

CHRIST. SOUL. 

Chr. Come, come, my dear, and let us both retire, 

And whiff the dainties of the fragrant fields ; 
Where warbling Phil'mel and the shrill-mouth'd 
choir 
Chant forth their raptures ; where the turtle builds 
Her lonely nest ; and where the new-born brier 
Breathes forth the sweetness that her April yields : 
Come, come, my lovely fair, and let us try 
These rural delicates ; where thou and I 
May melt in private flames, and fear no stander-by. 

Soul. My heart's eternal joy, in lieu of whom 

The earth's a blast, and all the world's a bubble ; 
Our city mansion is the fairer home, 

But country sweets are tang'd* with lesser trouble : 

Let's try them both, and choose the better ; come ; 

A change in pleasure makes the pleasure double ; 

On thy commands depends my go or tarry ; 

I'll stir with Martha, or I'll stay with Mary : 

Our hearts are firmly fix'd, altho' our pleasures vary. 

* Tang'd, tasted 



44 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK IT. 



Chr. Our country mansion (situate on high), 
With various objects, still renews delight : 
Her arched roof's of unstain'd ivory: 

Her walls of fiery- sparkling chrysolite : 
Her pavement is of hardest porphyry ; 

Her spacious windows are all glaz'd with bright 
And flaming carbuncles ; no need require 
Titan's faint rays, or Vulcan's feeble fire ; 
And ev'ry gate's a pearl ; and ev'ry pearl entire. 

Soul. Fool that I was ! how were my thoughts de- 
ceived ! 
How falsely was my fond conceit possest ! 
I took it for an hermitage, but pav'd 

And daub'd with neighb'ring dirt, and thatch'd at 
best 
Alas ! I ne'er expected more, nor crav'd ; 
A turtle hop'd but for a turtle's nest : 

Come, come, my dear, and let no idle stay 
Neglect th' advantage of a headstrong day : 
How pleasure grates, that feels the curb of dull delay ! 



Chr. Come, then, my joy ; let our divided paces 

Conduct us to our fairest territory : 
O there we'll twine our souls in sweet embraces ; 

Soul. And in thine arms I'll tell my passion story : 

Chr. O there I'll crown thy head with all my graces ; 

Soul. And all those graces shall reflect thy glory ' 

Chr. O there I'll feed thee with celestial manna ; 
I'll be thy Elkanah. 

Soul. And I thy Hannah. 

Chr. I'll sound my trump of joy. 

Soul. And I'll resound Hosannah. 



BOOK IV. 



EMBLEMS. 45 



S. Bern. 



O blessed contemplation ! the death of vices, and 
the life of virtues I thee the law and prophets ad- 
mire : who ever attained perfection, if not by thee ? 
O blessed solitude, the magazine of celestial treasure I 
by thee things earthly and transitory are changed 
into heavenly and eternal. 

S, Bern, in Ep. 

Happy is that house, and blessed is that congre- 
gation, where Martha still complaineth of Mary. 



Epig. 7. 

Mechanic soul, thou must not only do 
With Martha, but with Mary ponder too : 
Happy's that house where these fair sisters vary 
But most when Martha's reconcil'd to Mary. 



BOOK IV. — EMBLEM VIII. 



Canticles i. 3, 4. 

Draw me ; we will run after thee, because of the 
savour of thy good ointments. 

Thus, like a lump of the corrupted mass, 

I lie secure ; long lost, before I was : ' 

And like a block, beneath whose burden lies 
That undiscover'd worm that never dies, 

I have no will to rouse, I have no pow'r to rise. 

Can stinking Lazarus compound, or strive 
With death's entangling fetters, and revive ? 

Or can the water- b dried axe implore 

A hand to raise it, or itself restore, 
And from her sandy deeps approach the dry-foot 
shore ? 

So hard's the task for sinful flesh and blood 
To lend the smallest step to what is good : 

My God ! I cannot move the least degree ; 

Ah ! if but only those that active be, 
None should thy glory see, none should thy glory 
see. 

But if the potter please t' inform* the clay, 
Or some strong hand remove the block away, 

Their lowly fortunes soon are mounted higher ; 

That proves a vessel, which, before, was mire ; 
And this, being hewn, may serve for better use than 
fire. 

* Inform, i. e. new-make. 



BOOK IT. EMBLEMS. 47 



And if that life-restoring voice command 
Dead Laz'rus forth ; or that Prophet's hand 

Should charm the sullen waters, and begin 

To beckon, or to dart a stick but in, 
Dead Laz'rus must revive, and th' axe must float 
again. 

Lord, as I am, I have no pow'r at all 

To hear thy voice, or echo to thy call : 

The gloomy clouds of mine own guilt benight me 
Thy glorious beams, not dainty sweets, invite me 

They neither can direct, nor these at all delight me. 

See how my sin-bemangled body lies, 
Not having pow'r to will, nor will to rise ! 
Shine home upon thy creature, and inspire 
My lifeless will with thy regen'rate fire ; 
The first degree to do, is only to desire. 

Give me the pow'r to will, the will to do ; 

O raise me up, and I will strive to go : 
Draw me, O draw me with thy treble twist, 
That have no pow'r but merely to resist, 

O lend me strength to do, and then command thy list. 

My soul's a clock, whose wheels (for want of use 
And winding up, being subject to th' abuse 

Of eating rust) want vigour to fulfil 

Her twelve hours' task, and show her Maker's skill, 
But idly sleeps unmov'd, and standeth vainly still. 

Great God! it is thy work, and therefore good : 
If thou be pleas'd to cleanse it with thy blood, 
And wind it up with thy soul-moving keys, 
Her busy wheels shall serve thee all her days ; 
Her hand shall point thy pow'r, her hammer strike 
thy praise, 



48 EMBLEMS. 



BOOK IV. 



S. Bern, Ser, xxi. ia Cant. 

Let us run : let us run, but in the savour of thy 
ointments, not in the confidence of our merits, nor 
in the greatness of our strength : we trust to run, but 
in the multitude of thy mercies ; for though we run, 
and are willing, it is not in him that willeth, nor in 
him that runneth, but in God that sheweth mercy. 
O let thy mercy return, and we will run : thou, like 
a giant, runnest by thine own power ; we, unless thy 
ointment breathe upon us, cannot run. 



Epig. 8. 

Look not, my watch, being once repair'd, to stand 

Expecting motion from thy Maker's hand : 

He'as wound thee up, and cleans'd thy clogs with 

blood ; 
If now thy wheels stand still, thou art not good. 



BOOK IV.— EMBLEM IX. 



Canticles viii. 1. 

O that thou wert as my brother, that sucked the breasts 
of my mother ! when I should find thee without, I 
would kiss thee. 

Come, come my blessed Infant, and immure thee 

Within the temple of my sacred arms ; 
Secure mine arms ; mine arms shall, then, secure thee 
From Herod's fury, or the high priest's harms : 
Or if thy danger' d life sustain a loss, 
My folded arms shall turn thy dying cross. 

But, ah ! what savage tyrant can behold 

The beauty of so sweet a face as this is, 
And not himself be by himself controll'd, 
And change his fury to a thousand kisses? 

One smile of thine is worth more mines of 

treasure 
Than there be myriads in the days of Caesar. 

O, had the tetrach, as he knew thy birth, 

So known thy stock, he had not sought to paddle 

In thy dear blood ; but, prostrate on the earth, 
Had veil'd his crown before thy royal cradle, 



50 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 

And laid the sceptre of his glory down, 
And begg'd a heav'nly for an earthly crown. 

Illustrious Babe ! how is thy handmaid grac'd 
With a rich armful ! how dost thou decline 

Thy majesty, that wert so late embrac'd 

In thy great Father's arms, and now in mine ! 
How humbly gracious art thou, to refresh 

Me with thy spirit, and assume my flesh I 

But must the treason of a traitor's hail* 

Abuse the sweetnesss of these ruby lips ? 
Shall marble-hearted Cruelty assail 

These alabaster sides with notted whips ? 
And must these smiling roses entertain 
The blows of scorn, and flirts of base disdain ? 

Ah ! must these dainty little sprigs,f that twine 

So fast about my neck, be pierc'd and torn 
With ragged nails ? and must these brows resign 
Their crown of glory for a crown of thorn ? 
Ah ! must this blessed Infant taste the pain 
Of death's injurious pangs ; nay, worse, be 
slain ? 

Sweet Babe ! at what dear rates do wretched I 

Commit a sin ! Lord, ev'ry sin's a dart ; 
And ev'ry trespass lets a jav'lin fly ; 

And ev'ry jav'lin wounds thy bleeding heart : 
Pardon, sweet Babe, what I have done amiss ; 
And seal that granted pardon with a kiss. 

* Hail, salutation. f Springs, arms. 



BOOK IV. EMBLEMS 51 

Bonavent. Soliloq. Cap. i. 

O sweet Jesu, I knew not that thy kisses were so 
sweet, nor thy society so delectable, nor thy attrac- 
tion so virtuous : for when I love thee, I am clean ; 
when I touch thee, I am chaste ; when I receive thee, 
I am a virgin : O most sweet Jesu, thy embraces 
defile not, but cleanse ; thy attraction polluteth not, 
but sanctifieth : O Jesu, the fountain of universal 
sweetness, pardon me that I believed so late that so 
much sweetness is in thine embraces. 



Epig. 9. 

My burden's greatest : let not Atlas boast : 
Impartial reader, judge which bears the most: 
He bears but Heav'n ; my folded arms sustain 
Heav'n's Maker, whom Heav n's Heav'n cannot 
contain. 



■ 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM X. 



Canticles hi. 1. 

By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul 
loveth ; I sought him, but I found him not. 

The learned Cynic, having lost the way 

To honest men, did, in the height of day, 

By taper-light, divide his steps about 

The peopled streets, to find this dainty out ; 

But failed : the Cynic search'd not where he ought 

The thing he sought for was not where he sought. 

The wise men's task seem'd harder to be done ; 

The wise men did by star-light seek the Son, 

And found : the wise men search'd it where they 

ought; 
The thing they hop'd to find was where they sought. 
One seeks his wishes where he should ; but then 
Perchance he seeks not as he should, nor when. 
Another searches when he should ; but there 
He fails ; not seeking as he should, nor where. 
Whose soul desires the good it wants, and would 
Obtain, must seek where, as, and when he should. 
How often have my wild affections led 
My wasted soul to this my widow'd bed, 



BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 53 

To seek my lover whom my soul desires ! 

(I speak not, Cupid, of thy wanton fires : 

Thy fires are all but dying sparks to mine ; 

My flames are full of Heav'n, and all divine.) 

How often have I sought this bed by night, 

To find that greater by this lesser light ! 

How oft have my unwitness'd groans lamented 

Thy dearest absence ! ah, how often vented 

The bitter tempests of despairing breath, 

And toss'd my soul upon the waves of death ! 

How often has my melting heart made choice 

Of silent tears (tears louder than a voice), 

To plead my grief, and woo thy absent ear ! 

And yet thou wilt not come, thou wilt not hear. 

O, is thy wanted love become so cold ? 

Or do mine eyes not seek thee where they should ? 

"Why do I seek thee, if thou art not here ? 

Or find thee not, if thou art every where ? 

I see my error ; 'tis not strange I could not 

Find out my love ; I sought him where I should not. 

Thou art not found on downy beds of ease ; 

Alas ! thy music strikes on harder keys ; 

Nor art thou found by that false feeble light 

Of Nature's candle : our Egyptian night 

Is more than common darkness ; nor can we 

Expect a morning but what breaks from thee. 

Well may my empty bed bewail thy loss, 

"When thou aft lodg'd upon thy shameful cross : 

If thou refuse to share a bed with me, 

We'll never part, I'll share a cross with thee. 

VOL. II. G 



54 EMBLEMS. 



BOOK IV. 



Anselm. in Protolog. Cap. i. 

Lord, if thou art not present, where shall I seek 
thee absent ? if every where, why do I not see thee 
present ? Thou dwellest in light inaccessible ; and 
where is that inaccessible light ? or how shall I have 
access to light inaccessible ? I beseech thee, Lord, 
teach me to seek thee, and shew thyself to the seeker : 
because I can neither seek thee, unless thou teach 
me ; nor find thee, unless thou shew thyself to me : 
let me seek thee in desiring thee, and desire thee in 
seeking thee : let me find thee in loving thee, and 
love thee in finding thee. 



Epig. 10. 

"Where shouldst thou seek for rest but in thy bed ? 
But now thy Rest is gone, thy Rest is fled : 
Tis vain to seek him there : my soul, be wise : 
Go ask thy sins ; they '11 tell thee where he lies. 



BOOK IV.— EMBLEM XL 



- 



Canticles iii. 2. 



/ will rise and go about the city, and will seek him 
tvhom my soul loveth : I sought him, but I found 
him not, 

O how my disappointed soul's perplext ! 

How restless thoughts swarm in my troubled 
breast ! 
How vainly pleas'd with hopes, then crossly vexed 

With fears ! and how, betwixt them both, distrest ! 
What place is left unransack'd ? Oh ! where next 
Shall I go seek the Author of my rest? 

Of what bless'd angel shall my lips enquire 
The undiscover'd way to that entire 
And everlasting solace of my heart's desire ? 

Look how the stricken hart, that, wounded, flies 
O'er hills and dales, and seeks the lower grounds 

For running streams, the whilst his weeping eyes 
Beg silent mercy from the foll'wing hounds, 

At length, embost,* he droops, drops down, and lies 
Beneath the burden of his bleeding wounds : 

* Embost, foaming at the mouth. 



56 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 

E'en so my gasping soul, dissolv'd in tears, 
Doth search for thee, my God, whose deafen'd 
ears 
Leave me th' unransom'd pris'ner to my panic fears. 

Where have my busy eyes not pry'd 1 O where, 
Of whom hath not my threadbare tongue de- 
manded ? 
I search'd this glorious city ; he's not here : 

I sought the country ; she stands empty-handed : 
I search'd the court ; he is a stranger there : 

I ask'd the land, he's shipp'd : the sea, he's 
landed : 
I climb'd the air, my thoughts began f aspire ; 
But, ah ! the wings of my too bold desire, 
Soaring too near the sun, were sing'd with sacred fire 

I mov'd the merchant's ear ; alas ! but he 

Knew neither what I said, nor what to say : 
I ask'd the lawyer ; he demands a fee, 

-And then demurs me with a vain delay : 
I ask'd the schoolman : his advice was free, 
But scor'd me out too intricate a way : 
I asfd the watchman (best of all the four), 
"Whose gentle answer could resolve no more, 
But that he lately left him at the temple-door. 

Thus having sought and made my great inquest 
In ev'ry place, and search'd in ev'ry ear, 

I threw me on my bed ; but, ah ! my rest 
"Was poison'd with th' extremes of grief and fear : 



BOOK IV. BMBLEMS. 57 

- 

Where, looking down into my troubled breast, 
The magazine of wounds, I found him there : 
Let others hunt, and show their sportful art ; 
I wish to catch the hare before she start, 

As poachers use to do ; Heav'n's form* 's a troubled 
heart. 



S. Ambros. Lib. iii. de Virg. 

Christ is not in the market ; not in the streets : for 
Christ is peace ; in the market are strifes : Christ is 
justice; in the market is iniquity: Christ is a la- 
bourer ; in the market is idleness : Christ is charity ; 
in the market is slander : Christ is faith ; in the mark- 
et is fraud. Let us not therefore seek Christ where 
we cannot find Christ. 



S» Hieron. Ser. ix. Ep. xxii. ad Eusioch. 

Jesus is jealous : he will not have thy face seen : 
let foolish virgins ramble abroad ; seek thou thy love 
at home. 



Epig. 11. 

"What, lost thy love ? will neither bed nor board 
Receive him ? not by tears to be implor'd 1 
It is the ship that moves, and not the coast ; 
I fear, I fear, my soul, 'tis thou art lost. 

"* Form, (a hunting term), where the hare sits. 



BOOK 



IV.— EMBLEM XII. 









Canticles hi. 



3,4. 



Saw ye him whom my soul loveih ? It was but a little 
that I passed from them, but I found him whom my 
soul loveth : I held him, and would not let him go. 

What secret corner, what unwonted way, 

Has 'scap'd the ransack of my rambling thought ? 
The fox by night, nor the dull owl by day, 

Have never search'd those places I have sought, 
- "Whilst thy lamented absence taught my breast 
The ready road to grief, without request ; 
My day had neither comfort, nor my night had rest. 

How hath my unregarded language vented 

The sad tautologies of lavish passion ! 
How often have I languished unlamented ! 

How oft have I complain'd without compassion ! 
I ask'd the city-watch ; but some denied me 
The common street, whilst others would mis- 
guide me ; [me. 
Some would debar me ; some divert me ; some deride 

Mark how the widovv'd turtle, having lost 
The faithful partner of her loyal heart, 
Stretches her feeble wings from coast to coast, 
Haunts ev'ry path, thinks ev'ry shade doth part 
Her absent love and her ; at length, unsped, 
She re-betakes her to her lonely bed, 
And there bewails her everlasting widow-head. 



BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 59 



So, when my soul had progress' d every place 
That love and dear affection could contrive, 
I threw me on my couch, resolv'd t* embrace 
A death for him, in whom I ceas'd to live : 
But there injurious Hymen did present 
His landscape joys ; my pickled eyes did vent 
Full streams of briny tears, tears never to be spent. 

Whilst thus my sorrow-wasting soul was feeding 

Upon the rad'cal humour of her thought, 
E'en whilst mine eyes were blind,' and heart was 
bleeding, 
He that was sought unfound, was found unsought : 
As if the sun should dart his orb of light 
Into the secrets of the black-brow'd night, 
E'en so appear 'd my love, my soul, my soul's delight. 

O how mine eyes, now ravish'd at the sight 

Of my bright Sun, shot flames of equal fire ! 
Ah ! how my soul dissolved with ov'r-delight, 
To re-enjoy the crown of chaste desire ! 
How sov'reign joy depos'd and dispossest 
Rebellious grief ! and how my ravish'd breast — 
But who can press* those heights that cannot be 
exprest ? 

O how these arms, these greedy arms, did twine, 
And strongly twist, about his yielding waist ! 
The sappy branches of the Thespian vine 
Ne'er cling'd their less-beloved elm so fast : 
Boast not thy flames, blind boy, nor feather'd 

shot ; 
Let Hymen's easy snarlesf be quite forgot : 
Time cannot quench our fires, nor death dissolve our 
knot. 

* Press ; put, by poetic license, for express. 
f Snarle, a tie, or knot, which it is difficult to disentangle. 



60 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 



Orig. Horn. x. in Divers, 

O most holy Lord, and sweetest master, how good 
art thou to those that are of upright heart, and hum- 
ble spirit ! O how blessed are they that seek thee 
with a simple heart ! how happy that trust in thee ! 
It is a most certain truth that thou lovest all that 
love thee, and never forsakest those that trust in 
thee : for, behold thy love simply sought thee, and 
undoubtedly found thee : she trusted in thee, and is 
not forsaken of thee, but hath obtained more by thee 
than she expceted from thee. 

Bede in Cap. iii. Cant 

The longer I was in finding whom I sought, the 
more earnestly I held him, being found. 



Epig. 12. 

What, found him out ? Let strong embraces bind 

him; 
He'll fly, perchance, where tears can never find him : 
New sins will lose what old repentance gains : 
Wisdom not only gets, but, got, retains. 



BOOK IV.— EMBLExM XIII. 






Psalm lxxiii. 28. 

It is good for me to draw near to God: I have put 
my trust in the Lord God, 

Where is that good, which wise men please to call 
The chiefest X doth there any such befall 
Within man's reach ? or is there such a good at all ? 

If such there be, it neither must expire, 
Nor change : than which, there can be nothing 
high'r : 
Such good must be the utter point of man's desire. 

It is the mark, to which all hearts must tend, 
Can be desired for no other end 
Than for itself; on which all other goods depend. 

What may this exc'llence be ? doth it subsist 
A real essence, clouded in the mist 
Of curious art, or clear to ev'ry eye that list ? 

Or is't a tart idea, to procure 
An edge, and keep the practic* soul in ure,f 
Like that dear chymic dust,J or puzzling quadra- 
ture ?§ 

* Practic ; used, by poetic license, for practical: i. e. not theo- 
retical. 

f Ure ; exercise. 

t Chymic dust ; i. e. the philosopher's stone, supposed to turn 
all metals to gold. 

§ Puzzling quadrature : i. e. sq\iaring the circle. 



62 EMBLEMS. BOOK. IV. 



Where shall I seek this good ? where shall I find 

This cath'lic pleasure, whose extremes may bind 

My thoughts, and fill the gulph of my insatiate mind ? 

Lies it in treasure ? in full heaps untold ? 
Doth gouty Mammons griping hand infold 
This secret saint in sacred shrines of sov'reign gold ? 

No, no ; she lies not there : "Wealth often sours 
In keeping ; makes us hers, in seeming ours : 
She slides from Heav'n indeed, but not in Danae's 
show'rs. 

Lives she in honour ? No ; the royal crown 
Builds up a creature, and then batters down : 
Kings raise thee with a smile, and raze thee with a 
frown. 

In pleasure ? No ; pleasure begins in rage ; 
Acts the fool's part on earth's uncertain stage ; 
Begins the play in youth, and epilogues in age. 

These, these are bastard goods ; the best of these 
Torment the soul with pleasing it ; and please, 
Like water gulp'd in fevers, with deceitful ease. 

Earth's flatt'ring dainties are but sweet distresses ; 
Mole-hills perform the mountains she professes : 
Alas ! can Earth confer more good than Earth pos- 
sesses ? 

Mount, mount, my soul, and let my thoughts 

cashier 
Earth's vain delights, and make thy full career 
At Heav'n's eternal joys : stop, stop thy courser there. 

There shall thy soul possess uncareful treasure ; 

There shalt thou swim in never-fading pleasure ; 

And blaze in honour far above the frowns of Caesar. 

Lord, if my hope dare let her anchor fall 
On thee, the chiefest good, no need to call 
For earth's inferior trash ; Thou, Thou, art All in 
All. 



BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 63 



S. August. Soliloq. Cap. xiii. 

I follow this thing, I pursue that, but I am filled 
with nothing. But when I found thee, who art that 
immutable, undivided, and only good, in myself, what 
I obtained, I wanted not ; for what I obtained not, I 
wanted not : for what I obtained not, I grieved not ; 
with what I was possessed, my whole desire was 
satisfied. 

S. Bern. Ser. ix. Sup. Beatl qui, habent, S>c. 

Let others pretend merit ; let him brag of the 
burden of the day ; let him boast of his sabbath-fasts, 
and let him glory that he is not as other men : but 
for me, it is good to cleave unto the Lord, and to put 
my trust in my Lord God. 



Epig. 13. 

Let Boreas' blasts and Neptune's waves be join'd, 
Thy ^Eolus commands the waves, the wind : 
Fear not the rocks, or world's imperious waves ; 
Thou climb'st a Rock, my soul ! a Rock that saves. 



BOOK IV.— EMBLEM XIV. 



Canticles ii. 3. 

/ sat down under his shadow with great delight^ and 
his fruit was sweet to my taste. 

Look how the sheep, whose rambling steps do stray 

From the safe blessing of her shepherd's eyes, 
Eftsoon* becomes the unprotected prey 

To the wing'd squadron of beleag'ring flies ; 

Where, swelter'd with the scorching beams of day, 

She frisks from bush to brake, and wildly flies 

From her own self, ev'n of herself afraid ; 

She shrouds her troubled brows in ev'ry glade, 

And craves the mercy of the soft removing shade. 

Ev'n so my wand'ring soul, that hath digress'd 
From her great Shepherd, is the hourly prey 
Of all my sins ; these vultures in my breast 

Gripe my Promethean heart both night and day : 
I hunt from place to place, but find no rest ; 
I know not where to go, nor where to stay ; 

The eye of Vengeance burns, her flames invade 
My swelt'ring soul : my soul hath oft assay 'd ; 
But she can find no shroud, but she can feel no 
shade. 

* Eftsoon, soon afterwards. 



BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 65 

I sought the shades of mirth, to wear away 

My slow-pac'd hours of soul-consuming grief : 
1 search'd the shades of sleep, to ease my day 

Of griping sorrows with a night's reprief : 
I sought the shades of death ; thought, there, t' allay 
My final torments with a full relief: 

But mirth, nor sleep, nor death, can hide my hours 
In the false shades of their deceitful bow'rs ; 
The first distracts, the next disturbs, the last de- 
vours. 

Where shall I turn ? to whom shall I apply me ? 
Are there no streams where a faint soul may 
wade ? 
Thy Godhead, Jesus, are the flames that fry me ; 

Hath thy all-glorious Deity ne'er a shade, 
Where I may sit, and Vengeance never eye me ; 
Where I might sit refresh'd, or unafraid ? 
' Is there no comfort 1 is there no refection ?* 
Is there no cover that will give protection 
T' a fainting soul, the subject of thy wrath's reflec- 
tion ? 

Look up, my soul ! advance the lowly stature 
Of thy sad thoughts ; advance thy humble eye : 

See, here's a shadow found ; the human nature 
Is made th' umbrella to the Deity, 

To catch the sunbeams of thy just Creator ; 
Beneath this covert thou may'st safely lie : 

* Refection, refreshment. 
VOL. II. H 



66 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 

Permit thine eyes to climb this fruithful tree, 
As quick Zaccheus did, and thou sh alt see 
A cloud of dying flesh betwixt those beams and thee. 



Guil. in Cap. ii. Cant. 

Who can endure the fierce rays of the Sun of 
Justice ? who shall not be consumed by his beams ? 
Therefore the Sun of Justice took flesh, that, through 
the conjunction of that Sun and this human body, a 
shadow may be made. 



S. August. Med. Cap. xxxvii. 

Lord, let my soul flee from the scorching thoughts 
of the world under the covert of thy wings, that, 
being refreshed by the moderation of thy shadow, 
she may sing merrily. In peace will I lay me down 
and rest. 



Epig. 14. 
Ah ! treach'rous soul, would not thy pleasure give 
That Lord, which made thee living, leave to live 1 
See what thy sins have done ; thy sins have made 
The Sun of Glory now become thy shade. 



BOOK IV.— EMBLEM XV. 



Psalm cxxxvii. 4. 
How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange Land 

Urge me no more : this airy mirth belongs 

To better times : these times are not for songs. 

The sprightly twang of the melodious lute 

Agrees not with my voice : and both unsuit 

My untun'd fortunes :* the affected measure 

Of strains that are constrain'd afford no pleasure. 

Music's the child of Mirth : where griefs assail 

The troubled soul, both voice and fingers fair: 

Let such as revel out their lavish days 

In honourable riot ; that can raise 

Dejected hearts, and conjure up a sprite 

Of madness by the magic of delight ; 

Let those of Cupid's hospital, that lie 

Impatient patients to a smiling eye ; 

That cannot rest until vain hope beguile 

Their flatter'd torments with a wanton smile ; 

Let such redeem their peace, and salve the wrongs 

Of froward Fortune with their frolic songs : 

My grief, my grief's too great for smiling eyes 

To cure, or counter-charms to exercise. 

The raven's dismal croaks, the midnight howls ; 

Of empty wolves, mix'd with the screech of owls : 

The nine sad knells of a dull passing bell, 

"With the loud language of a nightly knell, 

* Untun'd fortunes ; i. e. sorrowful circumstances. 



68 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK IV. 



And horrid outcries of revenged crimes,. 

Join'd in a medley's music for these times : 

These are no times to touch the merry string 

Of Orpheus ; no, these are no times to sing. 

Can hide-bound pris'ners, that have spent their souls 

And famished bodies in the noisome holes 

Of hell-black dungeons, apt* their rougher throats 

Grown hoarse with begging alms, to warble notes ? 

Can the sad pilgrim, that hath lost his way 

In the vast desert, there condemn'd a prey 

To the wild subject, or his salvagef king, 

Rouse up his palsy-smitten sp'rits, and sing ? 

Can I, a pilgrim, and a pris'ner too, 

Alas ! where I am neither known, nor know 

Aught but my torments, an unransom'd stranger 

In this strange climate, in a land of danger — 

O, can my voice be pleasant, or my hand, 

Thus made a pris'ner in a foreign land ? 

How can my music relish in your ears, 

That cannot speak for sobs, nor sing for tears ? 

Ah ! if my voice could, Opheus-like, unspel 

My poor Eurydice, my soul, from hell 

Of earth's misconstrued Heav'n, O then my breast 

Should warble airs, whose raphsodies should feast 

The ears of seraphims, and entertain 

Heav'n's highest Deity with their lofty strain ; 

A strain well drench'd in the true Thespian well : 

Till then, earth's semiquaver, Mirth, farewell. 



* Apt, adapt, or fit. 



t Salvage, savage, wild. 



BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 69 

S August. Med. Cap. xxxiii. 

O infinitely happy are those heavenly virtues 
which are able to praise thee in holiness and purity, 
with excessive sweetness and unutterable exultation ! 
From thence they praise thee, from whence they 
rejoice, because they continually see for what they 
rejoice, for what they praise thee : but we, pressed 
down with this burden of flesh, far removed from thy 
countenance in this pilgrimage, and blown up with 
worldly vanities, cannot worthily praise thee; we 
praise thee by faith, not face to face ; but those 
angelical spirits praise thee face to face, and not by 
faith. 



Epig. 15. 

Did I refuse to sing ? Said I these times 
Were not for songs, nor music for these climes ? 
It was my error : are not groans and tears 
Harmonious raptures in th' Almighty's ears ? 






BOOK THE FIFTH. 



EMBLEM I. 

Canticles v. 8. 

/ charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my 
beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of' love. 

You, holy virgins, that so oft surround 

The city's sapphire walls ; whose snowy feet 
Measure the pearly paths of sacred ground, 

And trace the new Jerus'lem's jasper street; 
Ah ! you whose care-forsaken hearts are crown'd 
"With your best wishes : that enjoy the sweet 
Of all your hopes ; if e'er you chance to spy 
My absent love, O tell him that I lie 
Deep wounded with the flame that furnac'd from his 
eye. 

I charge you. virgins, as you hope to hear 

The heav'nly music of your lover's voice; 
I charge you, by the solemn faith ye bear 

To plighted vows, and to the loyal choice 
Of your affections ; or, if aught more dear 

You hold ; by Hymen ; by your marriage joys ; 
I charge you tell him that a flaming dart, 
Shot from his eye, hath pierc'd my bleeding 
heart, 
And I am sick of love and languish in my smart. 



BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 71 

Tell him, O tell him, how my panting breast 

Is scorch'd with flames, and how my soul is pin'd;* 
Tell him, O tell him, how I lie opprest 

With the fall torments of a troubled mind ; 
O tell him, tell him, that he loves in jest, 
But I in earnest ; tell him he's unkind ; 
But if a discontented frown appears 
Upon his angry brow, accost his ears 
With soft and fewer words, and act the rest in tears- 

O tell him that his cruelties deprive 

My soul of peace, while peace in vain she seeks ; 
Tell him those damask roses, that did strive 

With white, both fade upon my sallow cheeks ; 
Tell him no token doth proclaim I live, 

But tears, and sighs, and sobs, and sudden shrieks; 

Thus if your piercing words should chance to 
bore 

His heark'ning hear, and move a sight, give o'er 

To speak ; and tell him, tell him that I could no more. 

If your elegious* breath should hap to rouse 

A happy tear, close harb'ring in his eye, 

Then urge his plighted faith, the sacred vows, 

Which neither I can break, nor He deny : 

Bewail the torments of his loyal spouse, 

That for his sake would make a sport to die : 

O blessed virgins, how my passion tires 

Beneath the burden of her fond desires ! 

Heav'n never shot such flames, earth never felt such 
fires ! 

* Pin'd, consumed, wasted with grief. 

* Elegious, plaintive, or complaining, 



72 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK. V. 



S. August. Med. Cap. xl. 

What shall I say \ what shall I do ? wither shall 
I go ? where shall I seek him ? or when shall I find 
him ? whom shall I ask ? who will tell my beloved 
that I am sick of love ? 



Guliel. in Cap. v. Cant. 

I live, but not I ; it is my beloved that liveth in 
me : I love myself, not with my own love, but with 
the love of my beloved, that loveth me ; I love not 
myself in myself, but myself in him, and him in 
me. 



Epig. 1. 

Grieve not, my soul, nor let thy love wax faint : 
Weep'st thou to lose the cause of thy complaint ? 
He'll come ; Love ne'er was bound to time nor 

laws; 
Till then thy tears complain without a cause. 



BOOK V.— EMBLEM II. 



Canticles ii. 5. 

Stay me with flowers,* comfort me with apples: for 
I am sick of love. 

O tyrant Love ! how doth thy sov'reign pow'r 

Subject poor souls to thy imperious thrall ! 
They say thy cup 's compos'd of sweet and sour ; 

They say thy diet 's honey, mix'd with gall : 
How comes it then to pass these lips of ourf 
Still trade in bitter : taste no sweet at all \ 
O tyrant Love ! shall our perpetual toil 
Ne'er find a sabbath, to refresh awhile 
Our drooping souls ? Art thou all frowns, and ne'er 
a smile ? 

Ye blessed maids of honour, that frequent 

The royal courts of our renown'd Jehove,J 
With flow'rs restore my spirits faint and spent ; 
O fetch me apples from Love's fruitful grove, 
To cool my palate, and renew my scent, 
For I am sick, for I am sick of love : 

These will revive my dry, and wasted pow'rs, 
And they will sweeten my unsav'ry hours ; 
Refresh me then with fruit, and comfort me with 
flow'rs. 

* Flowers : the word, in our modern Bibles, is flagons. 
f Our : put for ours, to accommodate the rhyme, 
t Jehove: Jehovah. 



74 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 



O bring me apples to assuage that fire, 

Which, ^Etna-like, in-flames my flaming breast ; 
Nor is it ev'ry apple I desire, 

Nor that which pleases ev'ry palate best : 
'Tis not the lasting deuzan* I require : 

Nor yet the red-cheek' d queening I request ; 
Nor that which first beshrew'df the name of 

wife, 
Nor that whose beauty caus'd the golden strife ; 
No, no, bring me an apple from the tree of life. 

Virgins, tuck up your silken laps, and fill ye 
With the fair wealth of Flora's magazine ; 
The purple vi'let, and the pale-fac'd lily ; 

The pansy, and the organ columbine ; 
The flow'ring thyme, the gilt-bowl diafFodilly ; 
The lowl3 r pink, the lofty eglantine ; 

The blushing rose, the queen of flow'rs and 

best 
Of Flora's beauty ; but, above the rest, 
Let Jesse's* sov'reign Flow'r perfume my qualming 
breast. 

Haste, virgins, haste; for I lie weak and faint 

Beneath the pangs of love : why stand ye mute, 
As if your silence neither car'd to grant, 

Nor yet your language to deny, my suit ? 
No key can lock the door of my complaint, 

Until I smell this flow'r, or taste that fruit. 

Go, virgins, seek this tree, and search that 

bow'r ; 
O how my soul shall bless that happy hour, 
That brings to me such fruit, that brings me such 
a flow'r! 

* Deuzan, queening .• names of different sorts of apples, 
f Beshreufd : cursed. 

* Jtsse's; jessamine, alluding to Christ, the Son of Jesse. 



BOOK V EMBLEMS. 75 



Gisten. in Cap. ii. Cant. Expos. 3. 

O happy sickness, where the infirmity is not to 
death, but to life, that God may be glorified by it ! 
O happy fever, that proceedeth not from a consuming, 
but a calcining, fire ! O happy distemper, wherein 
the soul relisheth no earthly things, but only savour- 
eth divine nourishment ! 

S. Bern. Serm. ii. in Cant. 

By flowers, understand faith ; by fruit, good works. 
As the flower or blossom is before the fruit, so is 
faith before good works : so neither is the fruit without 
the flower, nor good works without faith. 



Epig. 2. 



Why apples, O my soul ? can they remove 
The pains of grief, or ease the flames of lov? 
It was that fruit which gave the first offence; 
That sent him hither : that remov'd him hence. 



BOOK V.— EMBLEM III. 



Canticles II. 16. 

My beloved is mine, and I am his : he feedeth among 
the lilies. 

E'en like two little bank-dividing brooks, 

That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams, 

And, having rang'd and search'd a thousand nooks, 

Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames, 

Where in a greater current they conjoin : 

So I my best beloved's am, so he is mine. 



E'en so we met ; and after long pursuit, 
E'en so we join'd ; we both became entire : 

No need for either to renew a suit, 

For I was flax, and he was flames of fire. 
Our firm united souls did more than twine : 

So I my best beloved's am ; so he is mine. 

If all those glitt'ring monarchs, that command 
The servile quarters of this earthly ball, 

Should tender, in exchange, their shares of land, 
I would not change my fortunes from them all 
Their wealth is but a counter to my coin ; 

The world's but theirs ; but my beloved 's mine. 



BOOK V. BMBLEMS. 77 

Nay, more ; if the fair Thespian ladies all 
Should heap together their diviner treasure, 

That treasure should be deem'd a price too small 
To buy a minute's lease of half my pleasure : 
'Tis not the sacred wealth of all the Nine 

Can buy my heart from him, or his from being mine. 

Nor time, nor place, nor chance, nor death, can bow 
My least desires unto the least remove : 

He's firmly mine by oath : I his by vow : 
He's mine by faith ; and I am his by love : 
He is mine by water ; I am his by wine ; 

Thus I my best beloved's am ; thus he is mine. 

He is my altar ; I his holy place : 

I am his guest ; and he my living food : 

I'm his by penitence ; he is mine by grace : 
I'm his by purchase ; he mine by blood : 
He's my supporting helm ; and I his vine : 

Thus I my best beloved's am ; thus he is mine. 

He gives me wealth ; I give him all my vows : 

I give him songs ; he gives me length of days : 

With wreaths of grace he crowns my conqu'ring 
brows ; 

And I his temples with a crown of praise, 

Which he accepts as an e'erlasting sign 

That I my best beloved's am ; that he is mine. 



VOL. II. 



78 EMBLEMS. BOOK V, 



S. August. Manu. Cap. xxiv. 

O my soul, stamped with the image of thy God, love 
him of whom thou art so much beloved : bend to 
him that boweth to thee, seek him that seeketh thee : 
love thy lover, by whose love thou art prevented, 
being the cause of thy love : be careful with those 
that are careful, want with those that want : be clean 
with the clean, and holy with the holy : choose this 
friend above all friends, who, when all are taken 
away, remaineth only faithful to thee : in the day of 
thy burial, when all leave thee, he will not deceive 
thee, but defend thee from the roaring lions prepared 
for their prey. 



Epig. 3. 

Sing Hymen, to my soul. "What ? lost and found, 
Welcom'd, espous'd, enjoy'd so soon, and crown'd ! 
He did but climb the cross, and then came down 
To th' gates of hell ; triumph'd, and fetch'd a crown. 



BOOK V.— EMBLEM IV. 



Canticles vii. 10, 



I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me* 

Like to the arctic needle, that doth guide 

The wand'ring shade by his magnetic pow'r, 
And leaves his silken gnomon* to decide 
The question of the controverted hour, 
First frantics up and down, from side to side, 
And restless beats his crystall'd iv'ry case 
"With vain impatience ; jetsf from place to place, 
And seeks the bosom of his frozen bride ; 

At length he slacks his motion, and doth rest 
His trembling point at his bright pole's beloved 
breast. 

E'en so my soul, being hurried here and there 
By ev'ry object that presents delight, 

Fain would be settled, but she knows not where ; 
She likes at morning what she loaths at night : 

She bows to Honour ; then she lends an ear 

To that sweet swan-like voice of dying Pleasure, 
Then tumbles in the scatter'd heaps of treasure ; 

Now flatter'd with false hope ; now foil'd with fear : 
Thus, finding all the world's delights to be 

But empty toys, good God, she points alone to thee. 



* Gnomon : the stile -pen or cock of a dial, the shadow whereof 
points out the hours. 

f Jets : hops as a bird. 



80 EMBLEMS. 



BOOK V. 



But hath the virtu'd steel* a pow'r to move ? 

Or can the untouch'd needle point alike ? 
Or can my wand'ring thoughts forbear to rove, 

Unguided by the virtue of thy Spir't ? 
O hath my leaden soul the heart t' improve 
Her wasted talent, and, unrais'd, aspire 
In this sad moulting time of her desire ? 
Not first belov'd, have I the pow'r to love? 

I cannot stir but as thou please to move me, 
Nor can my heart return thee love, until thou love me. 

The still commandress of the silent night 

Borrows her beams from her bright brother's eye : 

His fair aspect fills her sharp horns with light ; 

If he withdraw, her flames are quench'd and die : . 

E'en so the beams of thy enlight'ning Sp'rit, 
Infus'd and shot into my dark desire, 
Inflame my thoughts, and fill my soul with fire, 

That I am ravish'd with a new delight ; 

But if thou shroud thy face my glory fades, 

And I remain a nothing, all compos'd of shades. 

Eternal God ! O thou that only art 

The sacred fountain of eternal light, 
And blessed loadstone of my better part, 

O thou, my heart's desire, my soul's delight, 
Reflect upon my soul, and touch my heart, 

And then my heart shall prize no good above 

thee ; 

And then my soul shall know thee ; knowing, 

love thee 

And then my trembling thoughts shali never start 

From thy commands, or swerve the least degree, 

Or once presume to move, but as they move in thee. 

* Virtu d steel : the mariner's compass. 



BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 81 



S. August, Med. Cap. xxv. 

If man can love man with so entire affection, that 
the one can scarce brook the other's absence ; if a 
bride can be joined to her bridegroom with so great 
an ardency of mind, that for the extremity of love 
she can enjoy no rest, not suffering his absence with- 
out great anxiety; with what affection, with what 
fervency, ought the soul, whom thou hast espoused 
by faith and compassion, to love thee, her true God, 
and glorious Bridegroom ! 



Epig. 4. 



My soul, thy love is dear : 'twas thought a good 
And easy penn' worth of thy Saviour's blood : 
But be not proud : all matters rightly scann'd, 
'Twas over-bought : 'twas sold at second-hand. 



BOOK V.~ EMBLEM V. 



Canticles v. 6. 



My soul melted whilst my beloved spake. 

Lord, has the feeble voice of flesh and blood 

The pow'r to work thine ears into a flood 

Of melted mercy ? or the strength t' unlock 

The gates of Heav'n, and to dissolve a rock 

Of marble clouds into a morning show'r ? 

Or hath the breath of whining dust the pow'r 

To stop or snatch a failing thunderbolt 

From thy fierce hand, and make thy hand revolt 

From resolute confusion, and, instead 

Of vials, pour fall blessings on our head ? 

Or shall the wants of famish'd ravens cry, 

And move thy mercy to a quick supply ? 

Or shall the silent suits of drooping flow'rs 

Woo thee for drops, and be refresh'd with show'rs ? 

Alas ! what marvel then, great God, what wonder 

If thy hell-rousing voice, that splits in sunder 

The brazen portals of eternal death ; 

What wonder if that life-restoring breath, 

Which dragg'd me from th' eternal shades of night, 

Should melt my ravish'd soul with o'er-delight ? 

O can my frozen gutters choose but run, 

That feel the warmth of such a glorious Sun ? 



BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 83 

Methinks his language like a flaming arrow, 

Doth pierce my bones, and melts their wounded 

marrow. 
Thy flames, O Cupid, (though the joyful heart 
Feels neither tang of grief, nor fears the smart 
Of jealous doubts, but drunk with full desires,) 
Are torments, weigh'd with these celestial fires ; 
Pleasures that ravish in so high a measure, 
That, O, I languish in excess of pleasure ! 
What ravish'd heart, that feels these melting joys, 
"Would not despise and loathe the treach'rous toys 
Of dunghill earth ? what soul would not be proud 
Of wry-mouth'd scorns, the worst that flesh and blood 
Had rancour to devise ? who would not bear 
The world's derision with a thankful ear ? 
What palate would refuse full bowls of spite 
To gain a minute's taste of such delight ? 
Great spring of light, in whom there is no shade 
But what my interposed sins have made ; 
Whose marrow-melting fires admit no screen 
But what my own rebellions put between 
Their precious flames and my obdurate ear : 
Disperse this plague-distilling cloud, and clear 
My mungy soul into a glorious day : 
Transplant this screen, remove this bar away ; 
Then, then my fluent soul shall feed the fires 
Of thy sweet voice, and my dissolv'd desires 
Shall turn a sov'reign balsam, to make whole 
Those wounds my sins afflicted on thy soul. 



84 EMBLEMS. 



BOOK V. 



S. August Soliloq. Cap. xxxiv. 

What fire is this that so warmeth my heart ? 
what light is this that so enlighteneth my soul ? O 
fire, that always burnetii, and never goeth out, 
kindle me ! O light, which ever shineth, and art 
never darkened, illuminate me ! O that I had my 
heat from thee, most holy fire ! How sweetly dost 
thou burn ! how secretly dost thou shine ! how 
desiderably* dost thou inflame me ! 



S. Bonavent. Stim. Amoris. Cap. viii. 

It maketh God man, and man God ; things tem- 
poral, eternal ; mortal, immortal : it maketh an enemy 
a friend, a servant a son, vile things glorious, cold 
hearts fiery, and hard things liquid. 



Epig. 5. 

My soul, thy gold is true, but full of dross : 
Thy Saviour's breadth refines thee with some loss : 
His gentle furnace makes thee pure as true ; 
Thou must be melted ere th' art cast anew. 

* Desiderably, desiredly. 



BOOK V.— EMBLEM VI, 



Psalm lxxiii. 25. 

Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is none 
upon earth that I desire beside thee. 

I love (and have some cause to love) the Earth ; 

She is my maker's creature, therefore good : 
She is my mother, for she gave me birth ; 

She is my tender nurse ; she gives me food ; 
But what's a creature, Lord, compar'd with thee ? 
Or what's my mother, or my nurse, to me ? 

I love the Air ; her dainty sweets refresh 

My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me ; 

Her shrill-mouth'd choir sustain me with their flesh, 
And with their Polyphonian* notes delight me : 

But what's the Air, or all the sweets that she 

Can bless my soul withal, compared to thee ? 

I love thee Sea, she is my fellow creature, 

My careful purveyor ; she provides me store : 

She walls me round ; she makes my diet greater : 
She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore : 

But, Lord of Oceans, when compar'd with thee, 

What is the Ocean, or her wealth, to me ? 

* Polyphonian ; many -sounding. 



86 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK V. 



To Heav'n's high city I direct my journey, 

Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye ; 
Mine eye, by contemplation's great attorney, 
Transcends the chrystal pavement of the sky ; 
But what is Heav'n, great God, compar'd to thee 
Without tby presence Heav'n's no Heav'n to me. 

Without thy presence, earth gives no refection :* 
Without thy presence sea affords no treasure ; 

Without thy presence air's a rank infection ; 

Without thy presence Heav'n itself 's no pleasure 

If not possess'd, if not enjoy'd in thee, 

What's earth, or sea, or air, or heav'n, to me ? 

The highest honours that the world can boast 
Are subjects far too low for my desire ; 

The brightest beams of glory are (at most) 
But dying sparkles of thy living fire : 

The proudest flames that earth can kindle be 

But nightly glow-worms, if compar'd to thee. 



Without thy presence wealth are bags of cares ; 

Wisdom but folly ; joy, disquiet sadness : 
Friendship is treason, and delights are snares : 

Pleasure's but pain, and mirth but pleasing mad- 
ness : 
Without thee, Lord, things be not what they be ; 
Nor have they being, when compar'd with thee. 



In having all things, and not thee, what have I ? 

Not having thee, what have my labours got ? 
Let me enjoy but thee, what farther crave I ? 

And, having thee alone, what have I not ? 
I wish nor sea, nor land ; nor would I be 
Possess'd of Heav'n, Heav'n unpossess'd of thee. 



* Refection, refreshment. 






BOOK V. 



EMBLEMS. 87 



Bonavent. Soliloq. Cap. i. 
Alas! my God, now I understand (but blush to 
confess) that the beauty of thy creatures hath de- 
ceived mine eyes, and I have not observed that thou 
art more amiable than all thy creatures ; to which 
thou hast communicated but one drop of thy inesti- 
mable beauty : for who hath adorned the heavens 
with stars 1 who hath stored the air with fowl, the 
waters with fish, the earth with plants and flowers ? 
But what are all these but a small spark of divine 
beauty 1 

S. Chrys. Horn. v. in Ep. ad Rom. 

In having nothing I have all things, because I 
have Christ. Having therefore all things in him, 
I seek no other reward ; for he is the universal 
reward. 



Epig. 6. 



Who would not throw his better thoughts about him, 
And scorn this dross within him ; that, without him ? 
Cast up, my soul, thy clearer eye ; behold, 
If thou be fully melted, there's the mould. 



BOOK V.— EMBLEM VII. 



Psalm cxx. 5. 

Woe is me, that I sojourn in Mesech, that I dwell in 
the tents of Kedah f 

Is Nature's course dissolv'd? doth Time's glass 

stand ? 
Or hath some frolic heart set back the hand 
Of Fate's perpetual clock ? will 't never strike 1 
Is crazy time grown lazy, faint, or sick 
With very age 1 or hath that great purroyal* 
Of adamantine sisters late made trial 
Of some new trade ? shall mortal hearts grow old 
In sorrow ? shall my weary arms infold 
And underprop my panting sides for ever ? 
Is there no charitable hand will sever 
My well -spun thread, that my imprison'd soul 
May be delivered from this dull dark hole 
Of dungeon flesh ? O shall I, shall I never 
Be ransom'd, but remain a slave for ever ? 
It is the lot of man but once to die ; 
But, ere that death, how many deaths have I ! 
"What human madness makes the world afraid 
To entertain Heav'n's joys, because convey 'd 
By th' hand of Death ? Will Nakedness refuse 
Rich change of robes, because the man's not spruce 
That brought them ? or will Poverty send back 
Full bags of gold, because the bringer's black ? 



* Purroyal; pair-royal. 



BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 89 



Life is a bubble, blown with whining breaths, 

FilFd with the torments of a thousand deaths ; 

"Which, being prick'd by death (while death deprives 

One life), presents the soul a thousand lives. 

O frantic mortal, how hath Earth bewitch'd 

Thy bedlam soul, which hath so fondly pitch'd 

Upon her false delights ! delights that cease 

Before enjoyment finds a time to please : 

Her fickle joys breed doubtful fears ; her fears 

Bring hopeful griefs; her griefs weep fearful tears; 

Tears coin deceitful hopes; hopes careful doubt; 

And surly passion justles passion out. 

To-day we pamper with a full repast 

Of lavish mirth ; at night we weep as fast : 

To-night we swim in wealth, and lend ; to-morrow 

We sink in want, and find no friend to borrow. 

In what a climate doth my soul reside, 

"Where pale-fac'd Murder, the first-born of Pride, 

Sets up her kingdom in the very smiles 

And plighted faiths of men-like crocodiles : 

A land where each embroider'd satin word 

Is lin'd with fraud ; where Mars his* lawless sword 

Exiles Astraea's balance ; where that hand 

Now slays his brother, that new-sow'd his land ! 

O that my days of bondage would expire 

In this lewd soil ! Lord, how my soul 's on fire 

To be dissolv'd, that I rrirght once obtain 

These long'd-for joys — long'd for, so oft, in vain ! 

If, Moses-like, 1 may not live possest 

Of this fair land, Lord, let me see 't, at least. 

* Mars his; Mars's. 



VOL II. 



90 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 



S. August. Soliloq. Cap. ii. 

My life is a frail life ; a corruptible life ; a life, which 
the more it increaseth, the more it decreaseth : the 
farther it goeth, the nearer it cometh unto death : a 
deceitful life, and like a shadow ; full of the snares of 
death : now I rejoice ; now I languish ; now I flourish ; 
now infirm ; now I live, and straight I die ; now I seem 
happy, always miserable ; now I laugh, now I weep : 
thus all things are subject, to mutability, that nothing 
continueth an hour in one state : O joy above joy 
exceeding all joy, without which there is no joy, when 
shall I enter into thee, that I may see my God that 
dwelleth in thee ? 



Epig. 7. 

Art thou so weak ? O canst thou not digest 

An hour of travel for a night of rest ? 

Cheer up, my soul, call home thy sp'rits, and bear 

One bad Good- Friday ; full-mouth'd Easter's near.* 

* The author here contrasts the strict fast observed on Good 
Friday, (particulary in the Catholic Church) with the abundance 
which prevails during the Easter festivities, then about to com. 
mence* 



BOOK V.— EMBLEM VIII. 



Rom. vii. 24. 

O wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me 
from the body of this death ? 

Behold thy darling', which thy lustful care 
Pampers ; for which thy restless thoughts prepare 
Such early cates ;* for whom thy bubbling brow 
So often sweats, and bankrupt eyes do owe 
Such midnight scores to Nature ; for whose sake- 
Base earth is sainted ; the infernal lake 
Unfear'd ; the crown of glory poorly rated ; 
Thy God neglected, and thy brother hated : 
Behold thy darling, whom thy soul affects 
So dearly ; whom thy fond indulgence decks 
And puppets up in soft and silken weeds ; 
Behold thy darling, whom thy fondness feeds 
With far-fetch'd delicates, the dear-bought gains 
Of ill-spent time, the price of half thy pains : 
Behold thy darling, who, when clad by thee, 
Derides thy nakedness ; and, when most free, 
Proclaims her lover slave ; and, being fed 
Most full, then strikes the indulgent feeder dead. 
What mean'st thou thus, my poor deluded soul, 
To love so fondly ? Can the burning coal 
Of thy affection last without the fuel 
Of counter love ? is thy compeer so cruel, 
And thou so kind, to love unlov'd again ? 
Canst thou sow favours, and thus reap disdain ? 

* Cates : viands. 



92 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK V. 






Remember, O remember thou art born 

Of royal blood ; remember thou art sworn 

A maid of honour in the Court of Heav'n ; 

Remember what a costly price was giv'n 

To ransom thee from slav'ry thou wert in ; 

And wilt thou now, my soul, turn slave again ? 

The Son and Heir to Heav'n's Triune JEHOVE 

Would fain become a suitor for thy love, 

And offers for thy dow'r his Father's throne, 

To sit for seraphims to gaze upon : 

He 'II give thee honour, pleasure, wealth, and things 

Transcending for the majesty of kings ; 

And wilt thou prostrate to the odious charms 

Of this base scullion ? shall his hallow arms 

Hug thy soft sides ? shall these coarse hands untie 

The sacred zone of thy virginity ? 

For shame, degen'rous soul ! let thy desire 

Be quicken'd up with more heroic fire : 

Be wisely proud, let thy ambitious eye 

Read nobler objects ,* let thy thoughts defy 

Such am'rous baseness ; let thy soul disdain 

Th' ignoble proffers of so base a swain : 

Or, if thy vows be past, and Hymen's bands 

Have ceremonied your unequal hands, 

Annul, at least avoid, thy lawless act 

With insufficience, or a pre-contract : 

Or, if the act be good, yet may'st thou plead 

A second freedom ; for the flesh is dead. 






BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 93 



Nazianz. Or at. xvi. 

How I am joined to this body I know not; which 
when it is healthful provoketh me to war, and being 
damaged by war, affecteth me with grief ; which I both 
love as a fellow-servant, and hate as an utter enemy : it 
is a pleasant foe and a perfidious friend. O strange 
conjunction and alienation ! what I fear I embrace, and 
what I love I am afraid of: before I make war, I am 
reconciled : before I enjoy peace, I am at variance. 



Epig. 8. 



What need that house be daub'd with flesh and blood ? 
Hang'd round with silks and gold ? repaired with food ? 
Cost idly spent ! That cost doth but prolong 
Thy thraldom : fool, thou mak'st thy gaol too strong. 



BOOK V.— EMBLEM IX. 



Philippians i. 23. 

/ am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, 
and to be with Christ. 

What meant our careful parents so to wear 

And lavish out their ill-expended hours, 
To purchase for us large possesions here, 

Which (though unpurchased) are too truly ours ? 
What meant they, ah ! what meant they, to 

endure 
Such loads of needless labour to procure 
And make that thing our own, which was our own too 
sure? 

What mean these liv'ries* and possessive keys? 

What means these bargains, and these needless sales ? 
What mean these jealous, these suspicious ways, 
Of law-devis'd and law-dissolved entails ? 
No need to sweat for gold, wherewith to buy 
Estates of high-priz'd land ; no need to tie 
Earth to their heirs, were they but clogg'd with earth 
as I. 

O were their souls but clogg'd with earth as I, 
They would not purchase with so salt an itch : 

They would not take of alms,* what now they buy 
Nor call him happy whom the world counts rich : 

* Liv'ries .- a law term, expressive of legal conveyance of an estate, 
f Of Alms : i. e., as a free gift. 



BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 95 

They would not take such pains, project and prog,* 
To charge their shoulders with so great a log : 
Who hath the greater lands, hath but the greater clog. 

I cannot do an act which Earth disdains not ; 

I cannot think a thought which Earth corrupts not: 
I cannot speak a word which Earth profanes not : 
I cannot make a vow Earth interrupts not : 
If I but offer an early groan, 

Or spread my wings to Heaven's long long'd-for 
throne, 
She darkens my complaints, and drags my off'ring down. 

E'en like the hawk, (whose keeper's wary hands 

Have made a pris'ner to her weath'ringf stock,) 

Forgetting quite the power of her fast bands 

Makes a rank bate J from her forsaken block:" 

But her too faithful leash§ doth soon restain 

Her broken flight attempted oft in vain ; 

It gives her loins a twitch, and tugs her back again. 

So, when my soul directs her better eye 

To Heaven's bright palace, where my treasure lies, 

I spread my willing wings, but cannot fly ; 

Earth hales me down ; I cannot, cannot rise : 

When I but strike to mount the least degree, 

Earth gives a jerk, and foils me on my knee: 

Lord, how my soul is racked betwixt the world and thee ! 

Great God, I spread my feeble wings in vain ; 

In vain I offer my extended hands : 
I cannot mount till thou unlink my chain ; 
I cannot come till thou release my bands ; 

W'hich if thou please to break, and then supply 
My wings with spirit, th' eagle shall not fly 
A pitch that 's half so fair, nor half so swift as I. 

* To prog : to use all endeavours to get or gain. 

f To weather a hawk (in falconry) signifies to set her abroad to 
take the air. 

% Rank bate : a strong spring for flight. 

§ Leash •. the thong by which a hawk is fastened to her stock or 
perch. 



96 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK V. 



S. Bonavent. Soliloq. Cap. i. 

Ah, sweet Jesus ! pierce the marrow of my soul with 
the healthful shafts of thy love, that it may truly burn, 
and melt and languish, with the only desire of thee J 
that it may desire to be dissolved, and to be with thee : 
let it hunger alone for the bread of life : let it thirst 
after thee, the spring and fountain of eternal light, the 
stream of true pleasure : let it always desire thee, seek 
thee, and find thee, and sweetly rest in thee. 



Epig. 9. 

What, will thy shackles neither loose nor break ? 
Are they too strong, or is thy arm too week ? 
Art will prevail where knotty strength denies ; 
My soul, there's aquafortis in thine eyes. 



BOOK V.— EMBLEM X. 



Psalm cxlii. 7. 

Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy 
name. 

My soul is like a bird ; my flesh the cage, 

Wherein she wears her weary pilgrimage 

Of hours as few as evil, daily fed 

With sacred wine and sacramental bread : 

The keys that lock her in, and let her out, 

Are birth and death ; 'twixt both she hops about 

From perch to perch, from sense to reason ; then 

From higher reason down to sense again : 

From sense she climbs to faith ; where, for a season, 

She sits and sings ; then down again to reason : 

From reason back to faith, and straight from thence 

She rudely nutters to the perch of sense : 

From sense to hope ; then hops from hope to doubt ; 

From doubt to dull despair ; there seeks about 

For desp'rate freedom, and at ev'ry grate 

She wildly thrusts, and begs th' untimely date 

Of unexpired thraldom, to release 

Th* afflicted captive, that can find no peace. 

Thus am I coop'd within this fleshly cage ; 

I wear my youth, and waste my weary age ; 

Spending that breath, which was ordained to chant 

Heav'n's praises forth, in sighs and sad complaint ; 

Whilst happier birds can spread their nimble wing 

From shrubs to cedars, and there chirp and sing. 

In choice of raptures, the harmonious story. 



98 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 



Of man's redemption, and his Maker's glory. 
You glorious martyrs, you illustrious troops, 
That once were cloister'd in your fleshly coops 
As fast as I, what rhet'ric had your tongues ? 
What dext'rous art had your elegiac songs ? 
What Paul-like power had your admir'd devotion ? 
What shackle-breaking faith infused such motion 
To your strong pray'rs, that could obtain the boon 
To be enlar'd, to be uncag'd so soon ? 
When I (poor I) can sing my daily tears, 
Grown old in bondage, and can find no ears. 
You great partakers of eternal glory, 
That with your Heav'n-prevailing oratory 
Releas'd your souls from your terrestrial cage, 
Permit the passion of my holy rage 
To recommend my sorrows (dearly known 
To you in days of old, and once your own) 
To your best thoughts (but oh, 't doth not befit ye 
To move our pray'rs ; you love and joy, not pity), 
Great Lord of souls, to whom should pris'ners fly 
But thee ? thou hadst thy cage as well as I ; 
And, for my sake, thy pleasure was to know 
The sorrows that it brought, and fel'st them too : 
O let me free, and I will spend those days 
Which now I waste in begging, in thy praise. 



BOOK VI. EMBLEMS. 99 



Anselm. in Protolog. Cap. i. 

O miserable condition of mankind, that has lost that 
for which he was created ! Alas ! what hath he left ? 
and what hath he found ? He hath lost happiness for 
which he was made, and found misery for which he was 
not made. What is gone ? and what is left ? That 
thing is gone, without which he is unhappy ; that thing 
is left, by which he is miserable. O wretched man ! 
from whence are we expelled? to what are we impelled? 
whence are we thrown, and whither are we hurried ? 
From our home into banishment ; from the sight of 
God into our own blindness ; from the pleasure or 
immortality to the bitterness of death. Miserable 
change ! from how great a good, to how great an evil ! 
Ah me, what have I enterprised ? what have I done ? 
whither did I go ? whither am I come ? 



Bpig. 10. 

Paul's midnight voice prevail'd ; his music's thunder 
Unhing'd the prison doors, split bolts in sunder : 
And sitt'st thou here, and hang'st the feeble wing? 
And whin'st to be enlarg'd ? Soul, learn to sing. 



BOOK V.— EMBLEM XI. 



Psalm xlii. 1. 

As the heart panteth after the ivater-brooks, so panteth 
my soul after ihee^O God. 
1 
How shall my tongue express tha{; hallow'd fire 

Which heaven hath kindled in my ravish'd heart ? 
What muse shall I invoke that wi|l inspire 

My lowly quill to act a lofty part ? 
What art shall I devise t' express desire 
Too intricate to he express'd by art ? 
Let all the Nine be silent ; 1 refuse 
Their aid in this high task, for they abuse 
The flames of love too much ? assist me David's Muse. 

Not as the thirsty soil desires soft show'rs 

To quicken and refresh her embryon grain,* 
Nor as the drooping crests of fading flow'rs 

Request the bounty of a morning rain, 
Do I desire my God: these in few hours 
Re-wish what late their wishes did obtain : 
But as the swift-foot hart doth, wounded, fly 
To th' much desired streams, e'en so do I 
Pant after thee my God, whom I must find, or die. 

Before a pack of deep-mouth'd lusts I flee ; 
O they have singled out me panting heart, 

* Embryon grain ; seed in the earth not grown up. 



BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 101 



And wanton Cupid, sitting in a tree, 

Hath pierc'd my bosom with a naming dart : 
My soul, being spent, for refuge seeks to thee, 
But cannot find where thou, my Refuge, art : 
Like as the swift-foot hart doth, wounded, fly 
To the desir'd streams, e'en so do I 
Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find, or die. 

At length, by flight, I overwent the pack; 

Thou drew'st the wanton dart from out my wound 
The blood that follow'd left a purple track, 

Which brought a serpent, but in shape a hound : 
We strove, he bit me ; but thou break'st his back ; 
I left him grov'lling on th' envenom'd ground : 
But as the serpent- bitten hart doth fly 
To the long long'd-for streams, e'en so did I 
Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find, or die. 

If lust should chase my soul, made swift by fright, 
Thou art the stream whereto my soul is bound ; 
Or if a jav'lin wound my sides in flight, 

Thou art the balsam that must cure my wound : 
If poison chance t' infest my soul in fight, 

Thou art the treacle that must make me sound 
E'en as the wounded hart, embost,* dothiy 
To th' streams extremely long'd for, so do 1 
Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find, or die. 



Embost (a term of hunters) ; wearied to foaming. 



Vol.. II. 



102 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 



S. Cyril, Lib. v. Joh. Cap. x. 

O precious water, which quencheth the noisome 
thirst of this world, that scoureth all the stains of sin- 
ners, that watereth the earth of our souls with heavenly 
showers, and bringeth back the thirsty heart of man to 
his only God ! 

S. August. Soliloq. Cap. xxxv. 

O fountain of life, and vein of living waters, when 
shall I leave this forsaken, impassable, and dry earth, 
and taste the waters of thy sweetness, that I may behold 
thy virtue and thy glory, and slack my thirst with the 
stream of thy mercy ? Lord, I thirst : thou art the 
spring of life ; satisfy me : I thirst, Lord ; I thirst 
after thee, the living God. « 



Epig. 11, 



The arrow-smitten hart, deep wounded, flies 
To th' springs, with water in his weeping eyes t 
Heav'n is thy spring : if Satan's fiery dart 
Pierce thy faint sides ; do so, my wounded heart. 



BOOK V.— EMBLEM XII. 

Psalm xlii. 2. 



When shall I come and appear before God. 

What is my soul the better to be tin'd* 

With holy fire ? what bootsf it to be coin'd 

With Heav'n's own stamp ? what 'vantage can there be 

To souls of heav'n-descended pedigree. 

More than to beasts that grovel ? Are not they 

Fed by th' Almighty's hand ; and, ev'ry day, 

Fill'd with his blessings too ? Do they not see 

God in his creatures, as direct as we ? 

Do they not taste thee — hear thee? nay, what sense 

Is not partaker of thine excellence ? 

What more do we ? alas ! what serves our reason, 

But, like dark lanterns, to accomplish treason 

With greater closeness ? It affords no light, 

Brings thee no nearer to our purblind sight ; 

No pleasure rises up the least degree, 

Great God, but in the clearer view of thee ; 

What priv'lege more than sense hath reason than ?{ 

What 'vantage is it to be born a man ? 

How often hath my patience built, dear Lord, 

Vain tow'rs of hope upon thy gracious word ! 

How often hath thy hope-reviving grace 

Woo'd my suspicious eyes to seek thy face : 



* Tin'd ; lighted up. f Boots ; profits. 

t Than ; put for then, to accommodate the rhyme. 



104 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 



How often have I sought thee ! O how long 

Hath expectation taught my perfect tongue 

Repeated pray'rs, yet pray'rs could ne'er obtain ; 

In vain I seek thee, and I beg in vain ! 

If it be high presumption to behold 

Thy face, why didst thou make my eyes so bold 

To seek it ? if that object be too bright 

For man's aspect, why did thy lips invite 

Mine eye t' expect it ? if it might be seen, 

Why is this envious curtain drawn between 

My darken'd eye and it 1 O tell me, why 

Thou dost command the thing thou dost deny ? 

Why dost thou give me so unpriz'd a treasure, 

And then deny'st my greedy soul the pleasure 

To view thy gift ? Alas ! that gift is void, 

And is no gift, that may not be enjoy'd. 

If these refulgent beams of Heav'n's great light 

Gild not the day, what is the day but night ? 

The drowsy shepherd sleeps, flow'rs droop and fade; 

The birds are sullen, and the beasts are sad : 

But if bright Titan dart his golden ray 

And with his riches glorify the day, 

The jolly shepherd pipes, flow'rs freshly spring ; 

The beasts grow gamesome, and the birds they sing. 

Thou art my Sun, great God ! O when shall I 

View the full beams of thy meridian eye ? 

Draw, draw this fleshly curtain, that denies 

The gracious presence of thy glorious eyes ; 

Or give me faith, and, by the eye of grace, 

I shall behold thee, though not face to face, 



BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 105 

S. August, in Psal. xxxix. 

Who created all things is better than all things ; 
who beautified all things is more beautiful than all 
things ; who made strength is stronger than all things ; 
who made great things is greater than all things : what- 
soever thou lovest he is that to thee : learn to love the 
workman in his work, the Creator in his creature : let 
not that which w&s made by him possess thee, lest thou 
lose him by whom thyself was made. 

S. August. Med. Cap. xxxvii. 

O thou most sweet, most gracious, most amiable, 
most fair, when shall I see thee ? when shall I be 
satisfied with thy beauty ? when wilt thou lead me from 
this dark dungeon, that I may confess thy name ? 



Epig. 12. 



How art thou shaded, in this veil of night, 
Behind thy curtain flesh ? Thou seest no light 
But what thy pride doth challenge as her own ; 
Thy flesh is high : Soul, take this curtain down. 






BOOK V.— EMBLEM XIII. 



Psalm 1v» 6. 

O that I had wings like a dove ! for then icould Ifiy 
away y and be at rest. 

And am I sworn a dunghill-slave for ever 

To earth's base drudg'ry ? Shall I never find 
A night of rest ? Shall my indentures never 
Be cancell'd ? Did injurious Nature bind 
My soul Earth's 'prentice, with no clause to leave her ? 
No day of freedom ? Must I ever grind 1 
O that I had the pinions of a dove, 
That I might quit my bands, and soar above, 
And pour my just complaints before the great Jehove ! 

How happy are the doves that have the pow'r, 

Whene'er they please, to spread their airy wings ! 
Or cloud-dividing eagles, that can tow'r 

Above the scent of these inferior things ! 
How happy is the lark, that ev'ry hour 

Leaves earth, and then, for joy, mounts up and sings ! 
Had my dull soul but wings as well as they, 
How I would spring from earth, and clip* away, 
As wise Aastrsea, and scron this ball of clay ! 

O how my soul would spurn this ball of clay, 

And loathe the dainties of earth's painful pleasure ! 



* Clip ; fly swiftly. 



BOOK V. 



EMBLEMS. 107 



O how I 'd laugh to see men night and day 

Turmoil to gain that trash they call their treasure ! 
O how I 'd smile to see what plots they lay 
To catch a blast, or own a smile from Gsesar ! 
Had I the pinions of a mounting dove, 
How I would soar and sing, and hate the love 
Of transitory toys, and feed on joys above ! 

There should I find that everlasting pleasure, 

Which change removes not, and which chance pre- 
vents not ; 
There should I find that everlasting treasure, 

Which force deprives not, forture disaugments* not ; 
There should I find that everlasting Csesar, 

Whose hand recalls not, and whose heart repents not : 
Had I the pinions of a clipping dove, 
How I would climb the skies, and hate the love 
Of transitory toys, and joy in things above ! 

No rank-mouth'd slander there shall give offence, 
Or blast our blooming names, as here they do ; 
No liver-scalding lust shall there incense 
Our boiling veins ; there is no Cupid's bow : 
Lord, give my soul the milk-white innocence 
Of doves, and I shall have their pinions too : 
Had I the pinions of a sprightly dove, 
How I would quit this earth, and soar above, 
And Heav'n's bless'd kingdom find, and Heav'n's bless'd 
King, Jehove ! 



f Disaugments ; wasteth. 



108 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 



S, August, in Psal. cxxxviii. 

What wings should I desire but the two precepts of 
love, on which the law and the prophets depend ? O if 
I could obtain these wings, I could fly from thy face to 
thy face, from the face of thy justice to the face of thy 
mercy : let us find those wings by love, which we have 
lost by lust. 

S. August, in Psal, lxxvi. 

Let us cast off whatsoever hindereth, entangleth, or 
burdeneth our flight, until we attain that which satis- 
fieth ; beyond which nothing is ; beneath which all 
things are ; of which all things are. 



Epig. 13. 



Tell me, my wishing soul, didst ever try 
How fast the wings of red-cross'd Faith can fly ? 
Why beg'st thou, then, the pinions of a dove ? 
Faith's wings are swifter ; but the swiftest, love. 






BOOK V.— EMBLEM XIV. 



Psalm lxxxiv. 1. 
How amiable are thy tabernacles f O Lord of hosts / 

Ancient of days, to whom all times are now, 
Before whose glory seraphims do bow 
Their blushing- cheeks, and veil their blemish 'd faces ; 
That, uncontain'd, at once dost fill all places ; 
How glorious, O how far beyond the height 
Of puzzled quills, or the obtuse conceit 
Of flesh and blood, or the too flat reports 
Of mortal tongues, are thy expressless Courts ! 
Whose glory to paint forth with greater artj 
Ravish my fancy and inspire my heart ; 
Excuse my bold attempt and pardon me 
For showing Sense what Faith alone should see. 
Ten thousand millions, and ten thousand more, 
Of angel-measur'd leagues from th' eastern shore 
Of dungeon-earth this glorious palace stands, 
Before whose pearly gates ten thousand bands 
Of armed angels wait, to entertain 
Those purged souls for whom the Lamb was slain ; 
Whose guiltless death, and voluntary yielding 
Of whose giv'n life, gave this brave Court her building : 
The lukewarm blood of this dear Lamb, being spilt, 
To rubies turn'd, whereof her posts were built ; 
And what dropp'd down in cold and gelid gore 
Did turn rich saphires, and impav'd her floor .• 
The brighter flames, and from his eye-balls ray'd, 
Grew chrysolites, whereof her walls were made : 



110 



EMBLEMS. 



BOOK V. 






The milder glances sparkled on the ground, 

And groundsell'd ev'ry door with diamond ; 

But, dying, darted upwards, and did fix 

A battlement of purest sardonyx. 

Her streets with burnish'd gold are paved round ; 

Stars lie like pebbles scatter'd on the ground : 

Pearl, mix'd with onyx, and the jasper stone, 

Made gravell'd causways to be trampled on. 

There shines no sun by day, no moon by night ; 

The palace glory is the palace light : 

There is no time to measure motion by, 

There time is swallow'd with eternity : 

Wry-mouth'd Disdain and corner-haunting Lust, 

And twy-fac'd Fraud and beetle-brow'd Distrust, 

Soul-boiling Rage and trouble-state Sedition, 

And giddy Doubt and goggle-ey'd Suspicion, 

And lumpish Sorrow and degen'rous Fear, 

Are banish'd thence, and Death 's a stranger there : 

But simple love, and sempiternal joys, 

Whose sweetness never gluts, nor fulness cloys ; 

Where, face to face, our ravish'd eye shall see 

Great ELOHIM, that glorious One in Three, 

And Three in One, and, seeing him, shall bless him ; 

And, blessing, love him ; and in love possess him. 

Here stay, my soul, and ravish in relation ; 

Thy words being spent, spend now in contemplation. 



BOOK V. EMBLEMS. Ill 

S. Greg, in Psal. vii. Poenitent, 

Sweet Jesus, the Word of the Father, the brightness 
of paternal glory, whom angels delight to view, teach 
me to do thy will ; that led by thy good Spirit, I may 
come to that blessed city, where day is eternal ; where 
there is certain security, and secure eternity ; and eter- 
nal peace, and peaceful happiness ; and happy sweet- 
ness, and sweet pleasure ; where thou, O God, with the 
Father and the Holy Spirit, livest and reignest world 
without end. 



Ibidem, 



There is light without darkness ; joy without grief; 
desire without punishment ; love without sadness ; 
satiety without loathing ; safety without fear ; health 
without disease ; and life without death. 



Epig. 14. 

My soul, pry not too nearly ; the complexion 
Of Sol's bright face is seen but by reflection : 
But would'st thou know what's Heav'n ? I '11 tell thee 

what; 
Think what thou canst not think, and Heav'n is that. 






BOOK V.— EMBLEM XV. 



Canticles viii. 14. 

Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or 
to a young hart upon the mountains of spices. 

Go, gentle tyrant, go ; thy flames do pierce 
My soul too deep ; thy flames are too, too fierce : 
My marrow melts, my fainting spirits fry, 
I' th' torrid zone of thy meridian eye: 
Away, away, thy sweets are too perfuming ; 
Turn, turn thy face, thy fires are too consuming : 
Haste, hence, and let thy winged steps outgo 
The frighted roebuck, and his flying roe. 

But wilt thou leave me, then ? O thou that art 
Life of my soul, soul of my dying heart; 
Without the sweet aspect of whose fair eyes 
My soul doth languish, and her solace dies ; 
Art thou so eas'ly woo'd ? so apt to hear 
The frantic language of my foolish fear ? 

Leave, leave me not, nor turn thy beauty from me ; 

Look, look upon me, though thine eyes o'ercome me. 

bow they wound ! but how my jgrfwinds content me ! 
How sweetly these delightful pains torment me ! 
How I am tortur'd in excessive measure 

Of pleasing cruelties ! too cruel pleasure ! 
Turn, turn away, remove thy scorching beams ; 

1 languish with these bitter sweet extremes : 



BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 113 



Haste then, and let thy winged steps outgo 
The flying roebuck, and his frighted roe. 

Turn back, my dear ! O let my ravish'd eye 
Once more behold thy face before thou fly ! 
What, shall we part without a mutual kiss ? 

who can leave so sweet a face as this ? 
Look full upon me ; for my soul desires 
To turn a holy martyr in these fires : 

O leave me not, nor turn thy beauty from me ; 
Look, look upon me, though thy flames o'ercome me. 

If thou becloud the sunshine of thine eye, 

1 freeze to death ; and if it shine I fry ; 
Which, like a fever, that my soul hath got, 
Makes me to burn too cold, or freeze too hot : 
Alas I I cannot bear so sweet a smart, 

Nor canst thou be less glorious than thou art. 
Haste then, and let thy winged steps outgo 
The frighted roebuck and his flying roe. 

But go not far beyond the reach of breath ; 
Too large a distance makes another death : 
My youth is in her spring ; autumnal vows 
Will make me riper for so sweet a spouse : 
When after-times have burnish'd my desire, 
I'll shoot thee flames for flames, and fire for fire. 

O leave me not, nor turn thy beauty from me ; 

Look, look upon me, though thy flames o'ercome me. 



VOL. II. 



114 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 



Autor Scales Paradisi. Tom. ix. Aug. Cap- viii. 

Fear not, O bride ! nor despair ; think not thyself 
contemned if thy Bridegroom withdraw his face awhile : 
all things co-operate for the best : both from his ab- 
sence and his presence, thou gainest light : he cometh 
to thee, and he goeth from thee : he cometh, to make 
thee consolate ; he goeth to make thee cautious, lest 
thy abundant consolation puff thee up : he cometh, that 
thy languishing soul may be comforted ; he goeth, lest 
his familiarility should be contemned ; and, being ab- 
sent, to be more desired; and, being desired, to be 
more easily sought ; and, being long sought, to be more 
acceptably found. 



Bpig. 15. 

My soul, sin's monster, whom with greater ease 
Ten thousand fold thy God could make than please, 
What would'st thou have ? Nor pleas'd with sun, nor 

shade ; 
Heav'n knows not what to make of what He made. 



THE FAREWELL. 



Rev. ii 10. 

Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a 
crown of life. 

Be faithful ? Lord, what 's that? 
Believe : 'Tis easy to believe ; but what ? 

That He whom thy hard heart hath wounded, 

And whom thy scorn hath spit upon, 
Hath paid thy fine, and hath compounded 

For those foul deeds thy hands have done : 
Believe that He, whose gentle palms 

Thy needle-pointed sins have nail'd, 
Hath borne thy slavish load (of alms), 
And made supply where thou hast fail'd. 
Did ever mis'ry find so strange relief ? 
It is a love too strong for man's belief. 

Believe that He, whose side 
Thy crimes have pierc'd with their rebellions, died 
To save thy guilty soul from dying 

Ten thousand horrid deaths, from whence 
There was no 'scape, there was no flying, 

But through his dearest blood's expense : 
Believe this dying Friend requires 
No other thanks for all his pain, 
But e'en ihe truth of weak desires, 
And, for his love, but love again. 
Did ever mis'ry find so true a friend ? 
It is a love too vast to comprehend. 

With floods of tears baptize 
And drench these dry, these unregen'rate, eyes • 



116 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 



Lord, whet my dull, ray blunt belief, 

And break this fleshly rock in sunder, 
That from this heart, this hell of grief, 

May spring- a Heav'n of love and wonder : 
O, if thy mercies will remove 

And melt this lead from my belief, 
My grief will then refine my love, 

My love will then refresh my grief. 
Then weep, mine eyes, as He hath bled ; vouchsafe 
To drop for ev'ry drop an epitaph. 

But is the crown of glory 
The wages of a lamentable story ? 
Or can so great a purchase rise 

From a salt humour ? Can mine eye 
Run fast enough t' obtain this prize ? 
If so, Lord, who 's so mad to die ? 
Thy tears are trifles ; thou must do : 
Alas ! I cannot ; then endeavour : 
I will ; but will a tug or two 

Suffice the turn ? Thou must persever :* 
I '11 strive till death ; and shall my feeble strife 
Be crown'd ? I '11 crown it with a crown of life. 

But is there such a dearth, 
That thou must buy what is thy due by birth ? 
He whom thy hands did form of dust, 
And gave him breath upon condition 
To love his great Creator, must 

He now be thine by composition ? 
Art thou a gracious God, and mild, 

Or headstrong man rebellious rather ? 
O, man 's a base rebellious child, 
And thou a very gracious Father : 
The gift is thine ; we strive, thou crown'st our strife 
Thou giv'st us life ; and faith a crown of glory. 
* Persever ; hold on. 

THE END. 

J. Nichols, Primer, Milton Press, Chandos Street, Strand. 




Reader, this Book slxall teaoli the puma Heart 
To soar from Earth, and. letter VWs hm* 

Flamuag. with Zeal to rise to HeaVrt above. 
Ami nxake the Triune God the Object of its Love 







Dtim. Ccelum aipivio Solum tleipicio. 
While to ///t//t JBeai'/i oiw/errent TA<>tt^/it& oris* 
7'Af Scntl a// ' /uirt/ifv 7'rrru\'Ttrc<v can de&foise . 




Xotus .Uuiuius in Alulio-no . .M«lili»-no poJxlua efl . 
T/tn.v //// f/tf /Mr ////// Jtft/t .rtt.s'hrin.v r/t /','arf/t , 
/''rotti ///'a- /■/((/ Vvfr //>•.!•/ ,//■(■;,- ///r/r /aftff /1/rf/t 



BOOK 1 




EMBLEM 



Sic Malum cccidii inncimi .til crime Malum 
'/ '////. \- S//i cvnceivif, kerHacetilill /it/tfa/t/f'rs- , 

c>/; (hie /ouf ' f/rcf/ tt'/tat //////t'rrtt.v Z//,v rinse 




Ut potior, potior, pa<ieris,non potieris. 
Ifr ,Y;///'r//tf/j- nit/t K/ijoymcnt .v/tn// /•<■ crt-irntt '. 
/ Enjoivnent .v/td// f/tv Paint' al'nimd . 







Quis Wor > cm plus pcmderJ addu Amor 
ll'/uc/tt.st/ir tightest in tfe Scale of Fate . J 
That ,r/«rr /trnd (h?ud '*«&& aM'w Weight 



B O OK I 




I ■ I : , M. 5. 



His -vcrtltxir Orbis . 
'Fluts in fier/tetual (burse the Ball is seen , 
las/til en i/t wantxm Sport ly X "fist and 'Spleen . 




Jxx Crucc tuta qui.es . 
. / Crofir altmt is tr//af you get a/ /W^ ,■ 
The Gro/s at /a. tt mu&tgn t\ t />h Ikaee and, R 



BOOE 1. 




latet Hoftis , et Otia ducis : 

The J'br lies close in wait; and canst tJant lerp 
ThvStuium here, and thus securely sleep .* 




E TVI B L E TVL 8 . 



Jit rifu ixecat. 

lis tfats the Wcn^lti her Votaries Oeamles 
Wun fair appearances ; and, kiUs nit/i Smiles 



BOOK 1. 



i 








eivlb lem: q. 



]/r ultra quis ilanjlcrii nVat rn Orbe Gradutix. 

7'kis c/irificj/nu Hybrid, no lezstifiq Jr\ ('.»' ceen <jnr , 
'/'Ac slififiry 'round 'you*' footsteyis n//f deceive. 



BOOK 1 




EMBLEM 10. 



TTtriufque CrepxindiaMeTces. 

'/'///' Sum of a// that rfuw t/ieu* Streftgth enydoj 
On rU/ter .vide , are Fottv's g fat ring 'Toys . 



BOOK I. 




^fundus in. Exittam. ruil 

Their ill-tim'd Speed admits of nr Delay. 
TTius to destruction runs? the Jf'cr/d <wa# 



BOOK! 




ETVlBEE^: 12. 



Tncrpem me copia iecit. 

What are the Richer which the World; cartjj/rantf 
Plenty //Aw /h/.r, alas/ha*? maAc me want. 



b o o i : . 




EMBLEM 13. 



Da-xhihiTroeiia Timor; da mflvL CaLcar ^Alitor 

ftridle nvy WVrldly Zrrt/ . Fer2Vtift</j> afrrr 

Grant me the Spur of .Hearts, Ccelestial Zr/v . 







Plioipliere reticle Diem.. 

O cJirtre the yfevrnv Shades- ofWujht cut/ziy , 
Sweet Phosphor, fo oar Sphere return the T>< 



. 




E^LBLHTVi:i6. 



OebiJitata Eides ; Terras JMtreea t el i. quit. 

rum' t'.v /rfff/sr/t't/ ■ of ta/rvtitt/ /itrf/t 
■f> '■",// /t/t.s> f/w (jrcctniruf ffartA . 





E VL B I; E "M 1 . 



"SSJc Xnrmne I tune n ad( • j n p turn. 
AV v/if/ic.v fAc Sim t/t /latii-c . S'/t/c/u/et/r /•-/•///»/, 



b o o k. ii . 




! Ii 



EMBLEM" 2. 



Donee totomx exploat Orbem.. 

\'( r c< axe /t/.v Cartw, fi/t ' tfri.\- /or Hcr/i/S- vast n taut ', 
If '///it// hijf rti/tt.f/tt <(!(/<■/• (rrris/i /•/■ /bund.. 






B O 




; 



EMBLEM 



^Xoix aroat Ifte ; Ted lianiat .Amor. 

/Ha pure Affectum this- will fail to /iroit* ; 
thif //-,V e/ttttrtqh-tl in the Sn/irrs cfJinVr 



BOOKH. 







emblem: 4= 



Quam. gravB SerTitium eit qxiodlevisEicapaiut. 

Greet? ?nust the Slav'ry /<' .n'here to your share 
SzccJi slight Mefreshmcnt fulls, to ease your (are. 



BOOKH. 







EMBLEM 5 



^Notl Omne quod liic micat Aurum. eil . 

Il'/tttt Treasures here do Jfammcms S 071s le/told / 
) ?/ /enow, that all ivJaek a litters- is not Gold . 






n 




EMBLEM 6 



Sic decipit OrLis. 

Zock net Ufion tAi^llt-r/ti ',• //•/• T/a'/t^v <t/t/tc<ir 
Ik fzUre propjortian .• ,///.(• deceitful Acre . 




EMBLEM 7 



JHc pefsima, Hie optima iervat . 

'/'/)/',<? takes- t/ir li'or.i t, and That the JBest sea. 
That i/awt (>e flestithieh ei , ermt r re c?a/tae,v 




uimuiivt Ptioi-os C\inl)ctl:« ; at :li;i \ i!'(;: 



■■/■■■ft.sT.v (7/i/i/r/// ■ _ That t/n Jlii// etytyy*; 
'■' derm to d&p/iise such uilr Tt>y&. 




Vcnlimtrm cxiiorreico J)iem . 



fit> juue my Tri/u /nif'v't{ tmfierceivd iin'tiy ; 
r,vkun f/t< /./t//tt , and dread a earning Day. 




IVmut : mane eft . 

Can Xcf/it/n/ then //< diie /ti//- ( /■/ /■< found J 
Strike it and rtrovo. ; — 'tis e/n/ityjry ifv Sound- 




.Err as: ]iac ltur. ad illani 



. To, f/.\ not //t/t.v ; _ tin J]rt/{ ///ce thee nti/l stiax 
Attend in time, and fearn due Pettier Way. 



B O O K I] 




EMBLEM 12. 



Jn Grace itat iecurus ^\mor, 

Tug thus alone, Sert/nfv ire /ircrr ; 

Whilt cm the I'lefieA Crvjtr we rr.r/ cur Z<A* 



B O OKU. 




E M B LE¥ 13. 



Poft Vulnera Daemon. 
t9v ir/it/t f/ic ffifit/ ll'r>i(/:<f //<■/.!■ /itctc'// //n- f/cnrf . 
Tk 'uurulduva fi'cetiit ur/f injrfrattttc t/t<- Smart. 



'■■.. c 




JAxLfc lapium iortms altol 



AV& ir/iifr JfitU.Iri&e again., to prove 

T firmer stand, when rats 'el fry fteavhly Arj-r 




Patet .Etkexi ; clauditur Orbi 



Often fr He*wh , tkejl^tscwnfJSart&IvJ^rtdf . 
Often t? 1 y/cai'/t , ti.f .f/a// to <■/// Itetfide 




On Tkee^OZord, /.s/i.r,/ tny H'/wie Dps ire 
Ikee mv Groan.)? ascend, rny /ray rj a,r nine 




J la i all. 2 6. q . 
/tmitfot t/ir Darfazefo of this Worldly Ni(//t.t- , 
Ltrrdlkare jigh&to findtfy ffeavhty /.///A/ . 



BOO S.UL. 




E m: b L E M- 2 . 



Ffalm.6<) . 5. 

//' //^v, CZcrrf , ftrr all our Faf ties known , 
/ler/ t/<n/{ extreme fv metrA t/tc//i /rem f/\y T/ircne 



BOOKKt. 




Pfalm_.6.2. 
//<■<// Me OZord, andgwt nw Jbrmendp eare . 

UvKrtH.s urc ff.fr/ , /vx/rrr nr\ ' 2/c<i/t/r & /r'rtrc 




EMB LEM 4. 



Pialm.u5.18. 
Behold, O-Lord, ///i ZabourancLrny Pain-; 
><v Sirup; thy chcurl'ruruf //u//d rtw/r, 




Job . xo . o, . 
/'r/ui "rnjb-er.-Eord. t/iaJ: J na.v /// ade. /'rem Cutv , 
iVbr in l/iv ttrat/t ccmsiane. me quite, atrcy . 



b o o x m. 




B LEM o. 



Job. 7. 30. 
ZorcL [June siruid ' vet C/t .'rr//r/y mv (ttrr 
JVor setrrve as a Mark t/tv Wrath '<■ ?x tr 




Job .13. 24. 
Restore me /.cr (I ; let me again. /trust Grac 
And /itf/c fi(>?ncrc the Glories ef'/Av .Face . 



BOOKIK. 







EMBLEM 8. 



Jer.g.i. 

O' that /fii'/tc /'Jvr.v, ltkrJ , 'ottnhtiii,x, ir» ti/if l , r<ji/i 
'/'<■ tftreruti Hu/i Tear* ftr&ficrtwn'cL h tn\Sin 



book nr. 




_Pia lux 18.5 



/ft rift /nxWavi the Snnrrs trf /Jrnt/i art found, 
Jrnt /7r//.v WPtSft J } r/t/s tr/n/trt/'\ /fir n/f'/ifn/ 



BOOK HX-. 



^Km 



,.- 




E [ I E I , i' M i 



Plalrn i \/\ j, 
/'/.-,/. l*4:nD't'tbv<1i*ct<jmer*t A* -revere ; 
Fflr m iriy >?tf//u './/'/fff/ Sou/ /rom Sm *j de> 



bo o -e: jjx 




] 



E~M 11. 

Pfalin 6q 15 
Jfj' ftar'&s a/rr/xJv wrec&ct 7 <? fimctv ,rair 
77? i' 11 rr/r/urt Sitfuiluint from a jfikjt'ry Grave. . 



B O OEM. 




EK.BL'EM-12. 



('.' t/tttt Z etrtdd tfonte secret jtlctct r.r/i/r 

To //trie trte /if/ t/tr Tfctfr r/ /Irdf/t /<" <■>■/• 



b o o k m: 




EMBLEM la. 



Job 10/20. 

% /htv.v ,/rr /r/t , .v/mrc f/ir/i ttt\ ■ fvt'/rii *///'rrt//f 
•Thfi fS/rj/,l' rr/rr.v/f'/.y/ ffntt 1 /rt,f.v ntr itft tvflr'nrft . 



BO OEIE. 




EMBLEM 14. 



JD enter on: 32.2a. 

C t/irtt f - Jf,tn/y't'/t(t ' H'Vttld H't'.vJn/ti'.v Irree ,tfftmf . 
/t> Kt/r ftrtytf trt/tiy //</> t/t,tr /fitter A'/t,/ . 



b o ok in. 




EMBLEK 15. 



Pf aim 31.10. 

My Driwv tinft.Wifj'/thv in cvhftant (rrirf'rirc ,\<//<//f, 
//i/tft/t/tv <r/r// ', 2/trr ItiJt h> /<t//tc/tf . 




Re ad ex*, this Book slxall teaek me pious Heart 
To soaiivom Eavfli, and l>etter Mews impart; 
Flaming* with. Zeal tox«iseto Heav*n. above, 
And. make the lid-une God tlie Object of its Love. 



BOOI I. 




INVOCATION. 



Dvim. Ccelum aipicLo Saltan cleipicio. 

H7ti/c k> /'t'//i /fftw'/t OUT /rrif/tf 77n'Ht///f.v tfrt\vr 

The Soul atfJFarlAly Ihee&uref can de&fiise . 



B O O K I 




EMBLEM I 



Tot us Mumlu.s in Maliono Moliltono poJiltus efl . 
/'///.»• ,/// //r ///.■ //*/ Jinn ,v,iA/(irrt.\- r/t Earth , 
A';-,// ///i.v /■,((/ 7'rrr /hwt r//r/r t/trt'r /ntnt /iirt/i . 



B O OI 1 




EMBLEM 



Sic 3faLmi ceeixHi unicumin. omue MaTura. 
/''/•f//t One fzruZ deeci what rutm'rous iff.v arise '. 




TTt poUar , potior, patinas .nonpotieris . 
/// Sti/-/ f rt'nf/A' H'rWi fi/ijaymcnt sAa/f fa rrciin'tf . 
Wt/umt - JZnfoi'ment &/iafl //n Pain* er/n////// . 



B O O K I. 




km: 4. 

Qms lcvnor ; cuiplus pcmdcri addil Amov 
WhicA f'.v t/ic /('r//i/c.\t in t/fr Sfrr/r r/'/vV/V- / 




His vcM-titur Orbis . 
V'/tnx t/t fwrpetot at ' (burse tAe Bet// is seen , 
/,,/x//,/ (> n //, wanton S/iorf /t Znsr and S/ifaen 




Jiv Cruce tuta quies . 
^1 Crofs <</(>7ic r\v what von get at fo^t ; 
The Oofs at last /mc/^rrivw Toner „■/<</ ' l?c,\r 



B O OK iv: 




E MBLE M I 

Horn . n . Q'x. 

/]/// //f //ty /'Vr,v/t <r/tit/nr /,<ni' / ftfttf . 
V'r/utttir/ tr> tS't'/i ; fr/li'i/t < , ft/t/t'lftti'& /nvJlt/u/ . 




l'i'alm liy . 5 . 

/Aftf tin H'ft/tr //•(/((/ S/(/t.v /Ntt/A/ <//{/(/<// /'C 



book: 




M 3 
Plain, .; 5 



7'Aft.v, fct Hjtr .vfi/f rtttrttif tyr /n;rr/>/\ fittit/c , 
'< Attt /.'/ AtWU'ftVA' Wi7vr/,i'/y/,f /lutl/icf ,s'/tift 



BOOKF". 




;■; r I B I E m 4. . 
l?ialm ag .120, 

'/'///(. v //•< /(/'/< rf , /•}■ //fr.vr MVtl&ifill tPt'f/ftif i/f<\/i/iti'r/ . 



B OOKiy. 




EMBLEM 5 



Prabn.iig .37. 

turn a/ray mine .Eves ; /to/' frtt/ie Tain 
rf/td. /f'tvtfpji lurr me fr {/tew laVe /ra/// . 




Efth 



tier .7, 3. 

T/ t'n t&y Sight 1 faav-e due jfizvour /bund ' , 
X ec mv Pentium ndt/i Sucre/} l'e eroti-m'd . 



BOOK rv^. 




K MB LEM 7 



CYmt.^.Ji. 

(emr* wy/if/fit-t/ , /it tt.v rrt/tf/f fAr /'Yc/r/.v, 
fax/ Ar.v/f ('fir// ,v/rrr/ /?r//'r//t/ f/tr Sc<<,\'f<n ['ir/i(<v 



BO'OKP 




EMBLEM 8 



Cant. 1.3 . 



__ 




Ml 9 



. Caiit:8.f." 

Otkat u/i/r/tt/ imfHi/sicn'tf ffeitrt ivnftlfW0PV t 

Fcf Thee., the A-ir<rt/irj-'v rfa St',rA /■■'<• />/<-• .' 




/.stfhfZt my Zf/'t 'V f'/t //tyfir'r/ /'\> jVf'r//// , 
Z.v f 'Krj/U, /'Iff ff/f/f/ ttft fritr/ /HV S'(>l(/.'s_/)t'//<f/>t. 




Cant 13.3. 

fnwc , f tn ( / f'Hrt,/ f/>< fifty run ft ti, in ftttn , 
/'r>r//r ii',t,v net rtntf/ttf fAt nay 7hun . 



BOOK 




E l.J B LEM1 



IA ! ' /ntir\ \r>rt .vfctt Attn ( te<#, my Zerre T/?>?t/t</ ', 
littf nty fvtid 'Arm,y r/trtf-r/ft/ Aim ar&Wtist 




Pfalm 73. J 8. 

To my Saufk /,'•/■ J //air / at Ir/rjftJt <//"ir/t near. 
With him my AruA/>r,\ (vctt/a r ; T me J not fear. 



BOOK IV. 




E 'm: b l >j m 14 



Caaxt 55.3. 

JBenealh hu$ Shade. Ztw-fa tny Jtweet Jlefuw£, 

, I to( Frnitv ftf/t flax ■<>/(/'>/ //rtt///i'ff/ tny.'/r't.vtf . 



?o 




PfnW 137. t,. 
}fim,r/t,t/l /if here *<r/it>rtt tftr tftorivtuv Xv/y. 

Tf t'///rr /,/f/t,/,v ,<>//,// ,vr(c/r </ 77n ///r ,\> /r /r'/tr/. 






BO OKV 




KM-ii I 



Cant : -j 5. 

nte f/ir /'Vf/r'/:v.///c f'ruit.v, f/ic cct^/irigJioM'l, 
///<■ /'urnitifj/I'V/'t'eur vf/ny Soul. 




Cant: 2 . l6 



Among ///< - .liliiw /refit tttv S/iou-ye dilute . 
/a//, /n'.y own, and r/a- />W<"/vv/r mine . 




Cant j.lo. 

I r ///\ /jf/t'lff/ '/•<• AVI' // ' ////.I 1 (l'WI/< . 

,}/></ in /tt.\Jh< <r.i/ mvZc J.i///f i/i.vprn 



BOO K V 




=J 






As fro?n kuvZiji.t' f-f, "a-o fcri c/it Acce//Ar frr&ke 
.. Ifc/fr'A rrv}'_Heart tr/itfe my .Be/ci <■</ #nokc 








eivcble^e 6 



JHal.u.. 73.25. 
whom haw. J f'/tt Thee r/i TTetw'ri trfcrc 



;r//c en 



Izartfr /-id Thi ■ < desert 



nyJti 




E1VLB LE¥ 7. 






Puih.u 120.5 . 
Mv-Lot in Jfcvrr/iW drearyZancL /uxsfeK 
fndtn the- Tents' ofKedarJrmupt dtrett 



BOOK V. 





EMB LEII 3 



_ TToju: "7 .2 I 
l' /rntc/tct/Jla/i .' /7nts drvinYi tr rtrnn- tM-Jfreath 
WtJuh t&<* ft/atA.wme Both <>ft/u\?l>eatA . 



b O O K 




I 



:i ! 



ETVLB L. 



JfJul.-i.av 
TP£rhing/vr Christ, a ctufamis .s-hrfr- /.•>> ////?< t 
Tm /•(•tout ' /cA'ttrf/t ,/y/A /ttt/tf /rr.T/iv*<j.\'</ti- 



BO' 







EKIiLE": 



Plain l ij.2 .7. 
Icr,l,ff( ( ///i Captive Sou/,- atttt tfit'ti thy Praise 
Shall fill tike remnant of rny joyful /hty.v. 




EMBLEM 11. 



Pfalni. 4,q .1. 
/i'/v/ f/x /Ac /Jftt'f //k awiing Streams desire* 
So &> t/t r Zc rd ef'/< t/r Try ,Vcu/ tsurpires. 



BOOK\ 




: 



PI aim 1,3.2. 

7'/.v Fct/p'Crocf, nil' Sftt/ ;rr///</ f!u// f //•////■ flCdf 
Zcrtlui fAyJPrr.vr/K'C it/tr/t .\/<<i// / it///n<fr .' 




= ^ +.:■■■..:. .. . . ... L3 

Ptlll 1 11.55.6. 

P thaJ I had the Piriivn# of a J)rrr .' 
27ten in /</<( At'ft />■ /At- Realms 1/ 'Peace and ' /.< 




Plain, 8|. i. 
//•'//• iTta/ti , /foir fffrr/f u.v , //r/r Jtri/n /v /<tt/\ 
{' Lrr<f (>/'//c\/.v, //<v Ji(iir'/>(v sll<t/i^<"ti.v art- .' 




EMBLEM 15 



Ciint : 8. i y . 
//,f.i-/, then ///i /.<!,, /■<■ Kke the fanaitfaixflfoe , 

f'i'rr i'A< fr-it,ir,'/if /Jf'//.vir/t< / 1 X/t/'ct .»• <//-, /r . 




irtleltjue eoronat ml \i us. 
FrrtV/t ,r( f/, ( dktir crrtm.v, ,//n/ /( tttb> fr ffearh . 



i 






I i 



Tin's fcm&ife's ru.-ux.lLopc. f< ar.iallc joy aiul< roiiH 
Are tkofe £nn.-\viWlss ■ wlncJi ilaily tofs this babble . 



* *> 



V 






•V 






i> *v. - « 



x* .^ 






">, 






f " 












-4 -7* 






^ 






* 



->2_ -* -T-' 















J- > 



x°°<. 















,0 o. 









V "^ 



</>, 



< 












-</> ,< 



.#' 


















.+* 



'% -s. v ' 



^ r 



' s<- 






X 



"^ ,<^ 






v " A ' 



-^ V 



-y 









, 









